Blood and Roses
by Hazel2468
Summary: Still reeling from his relationship issues with Alec, Magnus Bane is more unsure than ever. But after a failed attempt at restarting the relationship and Alec's departure, how will Magnus react to a blast from the rather distant past? And just who exactly is this strange girl who seems to possess angelic powers?
1. Chapter 1

The Mortal Instruments: Fanfiction

(Note: This story takes place after the events of the fifth book in the series. All happenings are fictional and most likely will not transpire in the real books)

**Hello dear readers! Before we begin, there are a few things I need to say. First of all, this is a Mortal Instruments Fanfiction, and it contains spoilers for pretty much the whole series. Okay, now, I know that there are many MALEC fangirls out there (I am one myself) so it may seem strange that this fanfiction is ****_NOT_**** a MALEC pairing. Now, I know what you're all thinking; WTF? They're awesome together, how could you put Magnus with someone else, blah blah blah. Now, I totally understand, but I am asking you, the good people who take the time to read my stories, not to judge. I cannot back down from a challenge, and when one of my friends challenged me to give Magnus another partner, I decided; I can do that. I love MALEC as much as the next fan girl/boy, but the point is that this story tales place right after CoLS, and Alec and Magnus are no longer together (SPOILER! Right there, but I did warn you). So I ask you please to read and enjoy, and please do not flame me for any lack of MALEC, because I too feel badly about it. No flames please!**

**Disclaimer: Do I LOOK like I could own any of the characters except Arella? No. I'm not even out of college yet, for the Angel's sake.**

Night draped itself over the walls of the Institute like a velvet blanket, covering every nook and cranny of the building; save for where the witchlight runes burned from their stones. Alec and Magnus were nestled under the covers of their bed, both snoring softly and fast asleep. Down the hall, Jace and Clary were in a similar situation, though neither of them snored. But Isabelle found herself unable to sleep that night. Something had felt wrong when she climbed into bed, and she couldn't shake this strange sense of foreboding that clouded her mind with worry. Normally, sleep came easily, especially after a long day of training like today. But now she found herself staring out the open window from her bed, watching as the stars turned across the indigo sky with the moon, clouds illuminated by its light. Why couldn't she sleep? She considered waking Jace, but she didn't want to disturb him, and Alec was an absolute nightmare if he was disturbed at this sort of hour. So, without any other option, Isabelle had resigned herself to spending the rest of the night watching the sky, hoping that maybe she would get lucky and see a shooting star or something of interest. With a sigh, she glanced down at the sidewalk and gasped aloud, nearly falling out of bed. A girl was leaning against the wrought iron fence that surrounded the Institute, and it was clear from the way she was staring at the building that she was not a mundane. Humans would see only a crumbling church; the glamour would make sure of that. But this girl was staring as if she could see the vast parapets and tall windows hidden to normal eyes. She was also clutching her right shoulder, and even in the half-light Isabelle could see the dark stain of blood upon her jacket sleeve. Something strange shivered up her spine, like a spark or bolt of energy, and it was accompanied by an odd feeling that she had never felt before. Nervous now, she bolted out of bed, grabbing her knife from the bedside table and rushing to Jace's room… But it was empty.

"Damnit, Jace!" she groaned, then sprinted in the other direction. When she reached the door to Clary's room she hesitated, and then burst inside, knowing that now really wasn't the time to worry about what she might walk in on.

"Jace, get up!" she shouted, rushing to the bed and shaking him. Clary jolted, sitting up and shaking her fiery red hair from her eyes.

"Isabelle? What's going on?" she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes and blinking at Isabelle.

"Someone's outside." Isabelle said, still trying to rouse Jace. "Jace, come _on!_ Wake up!" he groaned and rolled over, glowering at her.

"It's probably a drunk mundane… You know how they wander around." He said with a dismissing wave of his hand. "Go back to sleep, Isabelle. You've been too paranoid recently." Isabelle growled, grabbing Jace's arm and pulling him into a seated position.

"Jace, this is _not_ normal. She can _see_ the Institute… For all we know she might be a demon, or something worse." Clary, who had been listening intently, jumped out of bed, throwing a sweater on over her tank top and sleep shorts.

"Jace, let's at least look. If you're right and it's nothing, then we can go right back to sleep." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But Isabelle is right; we can't overlook anything, especially with everything that's just happened." Jace frowned, but got up, stretching and grabbing his seraph blade from the dresser drawer.

"Fine. But if this is some drunk mundane, and I have to go out there and deal with it, you're both in trouble." He said, slumping out into the hall with the girls close behind him. They reached the front door in a matter of moments, and the odd sensation slipped down Isabelle's spine again.

"Do you feel that?" she asked, but the wide-eyes expression on Clary's face gave her the answer. Jace noticed as well, and his steps became more hesitant.

"What is it?" he asked, one hand on the door, ready to go outside.

"I have no idea. But see, that's how I knew something wasn't right. This doesn't feel like anything… Usual." Isabelle said, unable to apply the word 'normal' to their situation. Clary hung close behind Jace, her hand resting on his arm. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and slipped out into the cool night. Mist hung over everything, and the strange spark that filled them all seemed to be affecting the air as well; everything was crackling with a gentle energy. The girl was closer now, looking up the steps at the three of them.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Jace shouted. The girl lurched forward a bit, the bloodstains apparent and growing on her clothing.

"I apologize for infringing… I saw the building and thought… Thought that you might offer me sanctuary…" she said, a bit breathlessly. Isabelle glanced at Jace, who seemed unsure, and at Clary, who looked like she wanted nothing more than to help.

"What do you think?" she asked. Jace shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I don't know… But I don't sense anything demonic about her. Still, she's definitely not a mundane, that's for sure." He replied, staring down the stairs with his blade held out in front of him. Clary and Isabelle followed apprehensively, ready for a fight, or maybe an ambush. The girl could be bait and, with someone like Sebastian on the loose, only the Angel knew what was to come next. They reached her, and the scent of blood was overwhelming, coppery and thick. Jace extended his free hand to the girl and she took it; he was alarmed to feel how much she was trembling, how cold she was. Clary moved in behind her, supporting her as they climbed the steps and retreated inside.

Jace deposited the girl on the couch, watching as she whimpered and clutched at her shoulder.

"Are you a Shadowhunter?" Isabelle asked, rather bluntly, and Jace glared at her. "What? If she is, then we can heal her with an _iratze_. It'll take less time." She said indignantly.

"No… But an _iratze_ will do just fine." The girl said, surprising all three of them. Runes were poison to Downworlders; they burned their skin like acid, and humans would die and become Fallen if Runes were to be inked on their skin. Jace hesitated, then handed Clary the steele and moved aside.

"Jace… If she's not a Shadowhunter, then she'll die." Isabelle said, pulling Clary back. The girl gave a light chuckle.

"If you want proof…" she sat up and, with a great effort, pulled her jacket off. The first thing they all saw was the gaping wound on her shoulder, obviously made by a rather large and very sharp set of teeth. The second was the single Rune inked at her collarbone, a deep burgundy color and unrecognizable amidst the blood. There was more ink on her shoulders and trailing down her back, but Clary didn't take the time to decipher the image before carefully inking the Rune onto the girl's fair skin. She sighed audibly as the ink set and her wounds began sealing themselves, glowing faintly silver as they healed. "Thank you… That feels much better." The girl leaned back against the cushions, being careful to keep the blood off of the couch. Clary smiled, but Jace looked unconvinced.

"So, if you aren't a Shadowhunter, and you aren't a mundane or a Downworlder, then what are you?" he asked. The girl shrugged.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure. I find it hard to answer questions I don't know the answer to myself." She replied with a coy smile. Isabelle snorted a little, grabbing the jacket from the girl and throwing it on the table.

"What the hell happened to you anyway? Looks like something tried to eat you, for the Angel's sake." She said, moving to sit on the couch next to her.

"I ran into a demon… And I don't currently have the strength to fight." The girl said, running a hand over her newly-healed shoulder. "It managed to get a bite in before I could escape… And then I made my way here. But- we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Arella." She said, extending her hand to Isabelle, who took it and shook.

"Isabelle Lightwood. Pleasure to meet you." She said. Arella smiled, offering the introduction to Clary.

"I'm Clary. Clary Fray." She said, taking a seat next to Isabelle. When Jace said nothing, she glared pointedly at him.

"Oh fine." He said, and then extended his own hand with a sigh. "Jace Lightwood." Arella rolled her eyes but returned the gesture. A strange silence fell over the trio; they could hear Alec's bed creaking as he or Magnus shifted in their sleep. Isabelle shot a dirty look in the direction of her brother's room and Jace snickered.

"Calm down there, Isabelle. If they weren't both asleep, they'd be out here already to see what all the fuss is." He said, giving her a light and playful tap on the shoulder.

"I know… I just worry about him. About what would happen if something went wrong again." Jace fell silent; he remembered what had happened. Magnus had left Alec, and it had taken over two weeks of pleading to get them back together. Even now that they seemed on good terms and everything looked back to normal, the two didn't act as close as they once did, Magnus angered and Alec utterly depressed. The mortality difference was a bit of a hurdle, but Isabelle and Clary had been working round the clock, trying to brainstorm potential solutions that didn't involve Alec becoming a Downworlder. So far, they had come up with nothing.

"Well, we have a few spare rooms that you could stay in." Jace said, breaking the silence and drawing attention back onto the current situation. "That is, unless you want to leave." Arella shook her head, looking just a bit sheepish.

"If it isn't too much trouble, I think I'll stay. I really don't have anywhere else to go." She said. Isabelle frowned at Jace; she knew he was trying to drive her out on purpose now. He just didn't want to deal with an unknown guest, who could do anything to them while they slept. Hell, they didn't even know _what_ this girl was. But Isabelle knew to trust her instincts, and she sensed nothing dangerous about Arella… She was just a bit unusual.

"Come on. The room next to mine is free. Simon's is a bit further down the hall, but he's out tonight." She said, not wanting to worry about what he might be doing. Even if he was a Daylighter, he no longer had the Mark of Cain to protect him should anyone decide to attack. And with Sebastian on the loose… She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts; fretting like this would get her nowhere. Besides, Simon was a vampire; he could handle himself just fine. Arella followed her down the hall to the spare room while Jace and Clary watched them go.

"I don't trust her." Jace said. "How can she not know what she is? I'm not buying it." Clary sighed; he did have a rather good point.

"But Isabelle was right, I didn't feel anything demonic about her. Maybe she _is_ a Shadowhunter and doesn't know it, like I was before you found me." But Jace was shaking his head.

"She knows what we are. If she was a Shadowhunter, I guarantee that she would be able to tell us. So how does she have a Rune then, if she isn't one of us? Mundanes can't withstand Runes." Clary didn't know what to say. She had never heard of anything like this ever happening before, maybe the girl was like Jace's inner fire, which he had gained when she had been forced to stab him with an Angelic sword.

"Come on, let's go to bed." She said, taking his hand and pulling him down to her room. Jace sighed, peeling off his shirt and dropping back onto the mattress, rolling over and closing his eyes. Clary didn't even object when he gathered most of the blankets near him; she could tell that he was actually worried, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Slipping under the remaining sheets, she closed her eyes, but it would be a while before her mind quieted down enough for her to fall asleep.

The next morning dawned uneventfully, much to Clary's relief. Isabelle was already awake by the time she and Jace made their way into the kitchen, and even then he was still yawning and looked asleep on his feet. Alec and Magnus were also awake, seated on the couch where Arella had lain. Maybe it had all been a dream.

"So, what happened in here last night?" Alec asked, avoiding Magnus' eye. "The whole room reeks like blood." Isabelle opened her mouth to explain, but at that moment there was the sound of a door opening and closing, and all eyes turned to the hallway. Arella was standing in the doorway, looking at all of them with wide eyes.

"Oh… Am I interrupting?" she said, stepping into the room. Isabelle had obviously left her some clothes, because Clary was quite certain that she had not been wearing that halter top last night. Alec was gaping at herm but Magnus just looked uncomfortable.

"No, not at all. We were just starting to make breakfast… Do you want anything?" Isabelle asked, flicking on the stove and spraying a pan with some Pam.

"Yes, if it isn't an trouble." Arella replied, taking a seat on the edge of the couch and turning to Alec and Magnus. "I'm Arella… Nice to meet you." She said, perhaps a bit shyly. Alec just nodded; the strange sensation the girl produced was obviously effecting him as well, but Magnus ignored the greeting, turning to stare at the wall and looking frustrated. Jace put his arms around Clary and sat her down at the table, watching as Arella curled her knees to her chest and absently ran her fingertips over the tattoo on her shoulder. Now that she was cleaned and her back exposed, Clary could make out a complex and very large design inked there.

"Arella? May I ask what that is on your back?" she said, feeling a bit intrusive. But Arella smiled, lifting her long auburn hair and turning. Imprinted on her skin was an impressive image; two immense tawny wings folded tight and held in place by black chains. Even Jace looked impressed, which was not an easy feat.

"Wow… Where did you get that done?" Isabelle asked. "Because _that_ must be an awesome tattoo parlor." Arella laughed, dropping her hair and sitting back down.

"Honestly, I don't remember getting that either. I was probably with my friends… and plastered." She admitted, going slightly red in the face. "I used to hang out with a rough crowd… But then I left and… Okay, I ran away from home." Jace was watching her, obviously looking for any sign of a lie. Isabelle, on the other hand, was totally entranced by the story.

"What happened?" she asked. Arella shrugged.

"Again, I couldn't tell you. My memory is full of holes." She said. Alec looked to Magnus, who ignored his gaze once again.

"You might be able to do something about it, right?" he asked.

"No." Magnus said indignantly, in a tone that signaled the end of the discussion. Isabelle wanted to argue, but Alec shook his head and then stood up, fleeing the room. Magnus cringed when they heard the door slam, frowning at the wall. Arella smiled, a little sadly, and glanced over at Magnus.

"What?" he snapped, gritting his teeth.

"Nothing. I just… feel sad." She said with a sigh. "It isn't a good feeling, what I sense in him. Confliction, regret, sadness… Love." Magnus slammed his fist down on the arm of the couch, breathing heavily. He sat there smoldering for a while as the others just watched him and Arella, waiting for him to snap again. But he didn't. Arella rested a hand on his shoulder, and the anger seemed to drain away from him as he slumped forward on the couch, tears at the corners of his cat-like eyes.

"He betrayed me… Lied to me." Magnus mumbled, looking more like a distraught teenager than a powerful warlock.

"I know. But was he really trying to hurt you? Or did he honestly think that what he was trying to do was for the best?" Arella asked. Magnus shrugged as she pulled her hand away and curled back into her own corner. "I think… That if you're lucky enough to have someone who loves you, you should fight for him." Her voice was small, wistful sounding, and Isabelle looked sympathetic. Jace, on the other hand, looked even more concerned now, his eyes boring into Arella with distrust. Clary tugged on his sleeve and he relented, dropping into a chair next to her and clasping her hands in his. Isabelle deposited a stack of pancakes on the table and, much to everyone's surprise, they actually smelled delicious. Normally, Isabelle's cooking wasn't much to write home about, but this actually looked alright. Arella joined them at the table, situating herself as far away from the others as possible and eating silently. Clary noticed that Jace still peered over at her from time to time; normally this would make her feel insecure, but it was the look of suspicion in his eyes that comforted her. Of course Jace was just worried about her and the others here. He had been against helping Arella in the first place, and it didn't help that they still had no idea what she could do, aside from that weird display with Magnus just moments ago. Clary had never seen anyone calm the warlock down like that…Not even Alec could affect him that quickly, and that was when they were on good terms. Arella cleared her plate when she was done and then retreated to her room. If it hadn't been for the intense Shadowhunter training and excellent hearing, none of them would have heard her footsteps on the stone floor.

"I need to talk with her." Jace said, standing up and tossing his plate in the sink. Isabelle stopped him, looking stern.

"Jace, we all know how you are with people-"

"You mean charming and handsome?" he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Isabelle shook her head, but Clary interrupted.

"I'll do it. Jace can be in the room, but I think that if we approach her too strong she might be less likely to answer honestly. And I know your theories," she looked at Jace. "About what she might be, but I don't get the feeling that she's working for Sebastian. I just don't get that bad feeling from her." She said. He frowned, but knew that he was both outnumbered and out reasoned.

"Fine." He said stiffly, drumming his fingertips against the table. Clary smiled at Isabelle who winked; they knew the battle was well won. She stood and made her way into the hall, Jace following closely behind her. When they reached the door he moved to push it open, but Clary grabbed his arm and then knocked.

"Come in!" Arella said from inside, and she slowly opened the door, keeping Jace behind her. Arella was laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, but she turned when the two of them entered. "Yes? Do you need something?" she asked.

"Yes… Actually, we need to speak with you." Clary said, glaring pointedly at Jace, who was scowling at the carpet, not pleased that he was being kept silent. "We need to know who you are and where you come from." Arella was quiet for a moment, then she sat up, brushing her hair behind her ears as she twisted around to face them.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She said. Jace laughed openly, crossing his arms and staring at her.

"We fight _demons_ for a living. We're half human, half angel. I doubt there's anything we can't believe." He said. Arella frowned at him.

"Some things are beyond even your minds. You Shadowhunters have strict rules of what is and is not to be. And it is your Clave that forced me to leave my home in the first place, though I had committed no crime." She said, a hint of loathing in her voice. "If your Clave were to hear of my whereabouts, they would hunt me down and kill me, and you would all be punished as well for harboring me." Jace instantly turned and made for the door, but Clary grabbed his arm and Arella gave a terrified yelp.

"Jace, wait." Clary said, but he yanked his arm out of her grasp.

"Why should I? She's just admitted that she's wanted. If we turn her in now that we know this, we could be sanctioned, our Runes could be stripped. Is that what you want?" he shouted, looking half angered and half scared.

"Jace, we can't just turn her over! Didn't you hear her? She's done nothing wrong! And I'm not getting a demonic aura from her at all… At least hear her out." Clary pleaded, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him in place. He sighed and stopped struggling, and Arella relaxed.

"Fine. But I want the whole story. What are you? And why is the Clave seeking you?" Jace asked. Arella straightened up.

"I should not exist. The Clave and my father consider me to be a mistake. My mother… I have no relationship with her, nor do I want one. Like you, I am half angel. My father is Raziel." Jace gaped at her, and Clary could tell that he wanted to interrupt, but Arella pressed on. "Unfortunately, my other bloodline is not so pure… My mother is a Greater Demon, Nephet, a succubus-"

"That's a lie!" Jace shouted, stepping forward and glaring at her. "Half demon and half angel? It's impossible. No angel would ever _mate_ with a demon; especially not Raziel." Clary was tugging on his arm, but he refused to listen. Arella jerked back, scowling back at him, violet eyes into blue.

"Have you ever _known_ Raziel? I sense his blood in you; you've met him. My father was careless, when he met my mother he was younger. She saved his life when he got into a rough spot with a Prince of Hell- Azazel himself. He was wounded and I will admit; my mother was entranced by him, as he was by her. You know what happened next, I'm the result. But when I was born and Raziel found out, he instantly tried to have me killed. You see, I was an abomination. Something not to exist. It was even thought to be an impossibility before I came along. I've been alive for two hundred years, and every single one of those years I have been hunted by my father. The Clave only knows of me from recent events; a Shadowhunter saw me hunting an animal." Jace had begun to relax, but he was still tense, ready for a fight any moment. Clary, on the other hand was confused.

"Hunting?" she asked. Arella brushed the question off.

"It's a long explanation. All you need to know is that I hunt animals and not people." She leaned back against the pillows, watching Jace warily. "So what? Are you going to turn me in? Let the Clave burn me? Because it won't work. But when they realize that, they will hand me over to my father, and he will smite me himself." Jace looked away, mumbling under his breath. Clary could see that he was conflicted, and she was too. Disobeying the Clave was serious, but she couldn't watch them kill Arella. It wasn't right.

"No. We won't turn you in." she said.

"Clary, are you serious?" Jace snapped, twisting around to stare at her. She stared right back, determined.

"Yes, I am. Jace, we can't. She isn't working for Sebastian; if she was a vampire, the Clave would let her live because she chooses animals over people. She doesn't break any laws. Why should it matter who her mother is?" Arella smiled.

"Thank you. But I understand if you want me to leave. I wouldn't want the Clave to be angry with you as well." She said. Jace nodded, but Clary shook her head.

"No. We can't just kick you out. You're half angel… We're the same in that way." She said. Jace groaned, throwing his hand into the air in an expression of defeat. "You know that Isabelle would think the same, as would Magnus."

"Magnus doesn't count." Jace said exasperatedly. "He's a Downworlder." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Then Alec would agree." Arella shook her head.

"Please… Can we keep this between us? I like Isabelle and Alec and Magnus. I don't want to frighten them off. Many people don't react all that well to my true identity." Jace grumbled again as Clary nodded in agreement.

"Great, just great. Let's _not_ tell everyone that there's a half angel half demon living with us, who just happens to be wanted by the Clave and could get us all killed!" he said. Arella flinched.

"If you want me to leave, I will." She repeated, but again Clary shook her head.

"No. You're staying. I'm not sending you out there just to be hunted down again. If it comes to it, we can try reasoning with the Clave. It's worked before." In truth, Clary could barely think of even one time when the Clave had listened to reason, but she didn't need to frighten Arella further. Arella smiled.

"Thank you. And thank you, Jace." She said, but Jace ignored her and stormed out of the room, looking very unhappy. Clary ignored this and took Arella's hand.

"Come on. I'll show you around. What do you want to see?" she asked. Arella thought for a moment.

"Do you have an archery range? Or a weapons room?" A bit taken aback, Clary nodded, and Arella's face lit up in a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Blood and Roses

Chapter 2

**Hello readers! I hope you are all enjoying my story. I would like to apologize in advance if I mispronounce (or miswrite) any of the Shadowhunter terms. Also, here is the ever-present disclaimer!**

**I do NOT own The Mortal Instruments. I can only lay claim to Arella.**

**In order to make up for the lack of MALEC, I will be posting a series of oneshots on the subject as soon as I finish with this story (or possibly before). **

**Thanks for reading!**

Magnus watched as Arella balanced the sword on her fingertip, brow furrowed in concentration as she fought to keep the blade straight. Clary had coaxed him off of the couch, insisting that he show Arella the weapons room while she went to talk to Jace, who had locked himself up in his room and refused to come out. With Alec moping around and Jace acting like a recluse, the mood in the Institute was seriously affected. Still, the girl entertained him; Magnus had never seen anyone handle a sword so casually, with absolutely no regard for their own safety.

"So… Have you decided what to do about Alec?" Arella asked, and Magnus sighed.

"Why are you so determined to help me and Alec? You don't know me, or him. Hell, you've only been here for like, a day." The warlock said, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. Arella shrugged.

"I don't know… I guess love is just important to me, personally. I've had it and lost it; I suppose I don't want to see you and Alec end up the same way." She looked a little sad, and Magnus felt a little guilty for snapping at her like he had earlier and bringing up old scars.

"I'm sorry… What happened?" he asked. Arella put the sword down on the rack next to her and sighed, leaning against the wall.

"I met someone… and well… I had to leave. If I hadn't he would have died" Tears welled up in her eyes but she blinked them away.

"I… I'm sorry." Magnus said, feeling a little bad. Arella shrugged, rubbing her eyes.

"It's alright. It happened a long, long time ago. But when I look at Alec, I sense the same emptiness I felt. Yes, he knows what he did was wrong. But he honestly didn't mean to hurt you… Just like I never meant to put my lover in danger. But he almost died, and it was my fault." She picked up a damaged knife that had been left on a table and examined the chipped and dulled blade with a look of slight interest. "Look, Magnus. Alec loves you; he only wanted to be able to spend his life with you without the issue of his mortality hanging over his head. Anyone would have considered it, shortening your life, but Alec isn't selfish and he didn't fall for Camielle's trap." Magnus rolled his eyes, but he couldn't suppress the lump building in his throat. Arella walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling. "Look, I'm not asking you to propose to him or go running towards each other in slow motion like in the movies. I know forgiveness is hard; but I also know how much it hurts not to be forgiven by the one you love." She gave him a pat on the back and turned to the forge behind her, examining the roaring flames and melted steel. Magnus watched as she grabbed a chunk of iron and dropped it into the crucible, where it hissed and sizzled into a molten state.

"I miss him. Things aren't the same, even though we still call ourselves a couple. We still sleep in the same bed, but I feel like I'm alone every night. I haven't touched him or kissed him in almost two weeks, and I feel like a part of me is missing, even though he's right next to me." He said, more aloud to himself than to Arella. She smiled sadly, nodding as she immersed the blade of the knife in molten metal.

"The most important thing is to decide what you want to do. Don't act rashly, but I think you already know what it is that you really want." Magnus wanted to answer, but was distracted as Arella dunked her hand into the molten metal and removed it, seemingly unharmed.

"How did you do that?" he asked, shuffling up behind her and staring at the now white-hot blade in her hands. She shrugged and smoothed out the blade with a small hammer.

"I've always been able to. Metal work is my specialty. I'm sure Jace wouldn't mind me fixing some of the old weapons." She said, dunking the knife in a bucket of cold water. She held it out to the warlock to examine, and Magnus had to admit that it was impressive. The blade looked brand new, and glistened in the light of the flame.

"It's still dull." He pointed out, unable to keep the smug smile off his face. Arella sighed.

"Of course." She said, taking the knife to the grinder and sitting down. She pressed the foot pedal until the stone wheel was turning at a suitable speed and pressed the blade to it. With a shower of sparks Arella expertly drew the blade across the stone, sharpening it to a perfect edge and testing it against her index finger.

"Perfect." She said, examining the bead of blood now welling up from the cut. Magnus watched as the blood streamed down her finger; there was something strange about it. Yes, it was red, but there were strange flecks of black and gold mixed in with the otherwise average vermillion liquid. Before he could question, the door behind them swung open and Jace entered, Clary at his heels.

"Hey. Who's been messing with the forge?" he asked, sounding a bit angry. Arella smiled, holding out the knife to him for examination.

"I did. You have a lot of old weapons and extra materials down here, I'm surprised that you haven't used any of them or fixed anything. Maybe you just needed me to come along." She said with a smirk. Jace grabbed the knife, his expression changing from skeptical to impressed as he twirled the blade between his fingers. Clary grinned at Arella.

"How did you do that?" she asked. Arella smiled and just shrugged.

"I've always loved that kind of stuff. I taught myself a really long time ago." She said.

"Wow, you got to work with molten metal when you were five?" Jace asked, a teasing tone in his voice. Arella giggled, as if the very idea was ridiculous.

"No! I was fifty. There's a huge difference." She turned back to the forge, but all three of them were gaping at her. "What?" she said, crossing her arms.

"Fifty? How old are you?" Clary asked. Arella laughed.

"It's impolite to ask how old a lady is. But for the record, I'm just about four hundred." Jace looked a bit skeptical.

"You look like you're nineteen." He said. Arella rolled her eyes, pointing to Magnus.

"And so does he! But he isn't, and I'm not. You think Angels age like humans do? If that were the case, Michael would look thousands of years old instead of twenty." Now Jace just looked angry.

"Archangel Michael? Right. I'm _so_ sure you know him." Clary elbowed him in the ribs and he fell silent, mumbling something about stupid made-up stories.

"And why is that so hard to believe? You know who my father is, and Michael is technically like his brother. He's actually the only one of them who really enjoys my company." She said with a wistful sigh. "But I haven't seen him in half a century. I miss him." Ignoring the glares she was getting from Jace and the way Magnus was staring at her like she had suddenly sprouted wings, Arella turned to the table in front of her and started examining the various slabs of wood and metal. "Do you think I could make something out of this? It's not like you've been using it, everything is covered in dust." She said. Jace grumbled, but Clary gave him another nudge in the side and he answered.

"No big deal. Just go ahead, do whatever you want." He said, obviously unhappy with the whole thing but smart enough not to argue with Clary.

"Thank you!" Arella said, beaming and grabbing a few of the wooden boards. "I won't be able to finish today, but I can start on the frame…" she took a grease pencil from one of the boxes nearby and started tracing a rough shape on a thick piece of willow.

"What're you making?" Clary asked, moving to stand next to Arella and watching as she worked.

"A bow. My old one broke a while ago, and this is a chance to make a better one." She said, grabbing a rasp and starting to cut away at the wood.

"She's making weapons now… Great." Jace said, walking over the weapons rack and distracting himself by twirling a seraph blade over his head. Magnus, who had been quietly contemplating the girl in front of him, joined Clary, leaning over Arella's other shoulder and watching as she quickly whittled away the useless wood, eventually giving up the rasp for the knife she had made and carving great chunks out of the wood. All the while, she was humming softly, eyes bright as she lifted the half-finished carving and examined it.

"You're really four hundred years old? Youngling." Magnus said with a chuckle, watching as she flipped the carving around and began to work on the other side.

"I may be younger than you, but I could kick you from here to Idris if I wanted." She said, grinning at him. Magnus frowned.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, leaning in so that their noses were almost touching, glaring down at her. Arella nodded.

"Yes, it is, if you really want to fight the daughter of Raziel, which I wouldn't advise." Magnus pulled back, wary now. She was right, he probably couldn't win, especially against an angel.

"Scared?" Jace drawled from the other side of the room. "Please. She couldn't beat me if she wanted to." Arella sighed.

"I have better things to do than to entertain you, Shadowhunter." It was meant to be a playful comment, but there was an odd growl in her voice, something threatening and genuine. Jace heard it and immediately backed off, deciding that maybe fighting with a half-demon wasn't the best idea.

"So, if I'm young, how old are _you_, Magnus?" Arella asked. The warlock pouted.

"About eight hundred, not that it's really any of your business." He said stiffly. Arella snickered under her breath. Dating Alec, he was _really_ violating the age rule. Still, it was better not to bring that little tidbit up now that Magnus seemed to be in a better mood. After a minute more of awfully boring sword-twirling, Jace gave up and went to see what was so amazing about Arella's bow-making. He got his answer when he peered over the top of the girl's head, and saw that she had already finished carving the wooden base of the bow and was sanding it smooth.

"How did you do that so quickly?" he asked. Arella shrugged but didn't answer, intent on her carving.

"She's got talent, that's all." Magnus said, still fixated on Arella's hands as they flashed over the wood, smoothing the irregular shape.

"What's all this?" Isabelle had appeared in the entrance, and was staring at the little gathering around the workbench.

"Arella's making a bow." Clary said, enthusiastically pointing to the carved piece of wood.

"Hmm… Interesting. But I've got news. About Sebastian." Instantly all three of then turned, leaving Arella confused and without an audience.

"Who?" she asked.

"My brother." Clary replied icily. "He's wanted by the Clave; it's a long story." Arella nodded and didn't question her any further.

"He's been spotted. By a nightclub, actually. Seems like he still feels safe enough to go out and pick up Downworlder girls." Isabelle said, looking slightly disgusted. Arella squirmed a little, looking down at the floor when Isabelle gave a negative connotation to the word 'Downworlder'. Magnus noticed, but didn't give it a second thought. Sebastian's capture was more important than a weird reaction for the little angel. "We don't have enough to go by yet, but it's very possible that we could find him at this club." She threw a flyer down on the workbench. It was for the Underground Tavern, a nightclub that was nestled in an old warehouse on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Magnus made a small noise of acknowledgment, and all four stared at him.

"What? I've been there many times. It's been around for hundreds of years, switching from location to location, even changing names a few times. But it's the same place." He said. Arella was examining the flyer, brow furrowed.

"How long do we have to plan this?" Jace asked. Isabelle shrugged.

"I would say about a week. He seems to go every Saturday night, so that gives us just enough time to get everything ready and notify the Clave." Isabelle said, but Jace stood up.

"No. Tell the Clave, and they'll insist on going after him themselves, and we'll never get a chance. We can tell them right after." Clary gaped at him, looking concerned.

"But Jace, we can't keep things from the Clave. We'll all get in trouble." She said.

"We're already keeping Arella a secret from the Clave, what's one more? They'll get Sebastian, but I'm not letting them take him in. I'm the only one who's going to be putting a knife in his chest." Jace had never looked more murderous as he put his arms around Clary's waist. "I can't forgive what he did to you." Isabelle tapped the poster impatiently.

"I'm with Jace. The Clave will insist that we let 'more experienced' Shadowhunters handle Sebastian. I want to get my hands on him just as much as you guys do." She said, picking up a knife and twirling it between her fingers as Jace had done earlier. Arella lifted the first piece of the bow, sanding the ends as she watched Clary move next to Isabelle to examine the flyer.

"Just hearing his name gives me the chills…" she said, and Isabelle gave her a strange look. "I don't know why, but I feel like he's dangerous." Arella said. Jace looked to her, and then to Isabelle and Clary.

"He left us a message… A pair of Angel's wings. Cut from a living angel." Arella's eyes widened, and her hands instantly flew to her shoulder blades, as if to protect the wings inked on her back.

"That explains why…" Her eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously. "Let me help."

"What?" Jace and Isabelle said in unison.

"Let me help you find him. Maybe I should tear his arms off to let him know what it feels like." Arella said. Isabelle gave her a once over.

"Arella… You don't even have wings. Tattoos don't count." She said. Arella smirked and, without saying a word, untied the halter top from around her neck.

"I'm wearing a bandeau, chill." She said as both Magnus and Jace turned away. Rolling her shoulders, she held a hand out to Isabelle. "May I use your knife?" she asked. Isabelle looked confused, but handed the seraph blade over anyway. Arella examined it for a moment, and then drew it over the palm of her hand. Blood welled up from the cut, but this time it was more golden than red. With a grin, she drew her hand across her collarbone, leaving a streak of golden ichor behind. "You might want to give me some room." She said to Magnus, who was still standing next to her. The warlock shifted closer to Jace, and they watched as the blood seemed to seep into the strange Rune on her neck, the red mark turning gold as the chains inked into her back began to snake away, twisting over her shoulders and around her arms.

"Wow…" Clary said, watching as Arella turned, lifting her hair. The white wings on her back were shifting, pulling away from her skin, stretching and forming from what looked like streams of ink. The wings burst into being and instantly folded tightly to her back, the feathers shifting as she arched her back with a contented sigh.

"That glamour is _really_ tough to keep up all the time. Feels good to let loose." She said, grinning at them. They all looked so astonished, it was amusing.

"So you're really an angel…" Magnus said, looking both awed and frightened at the same time.

"Yes, I am. And you're a warlock." She said simply, letting her wings flare and smiling at him. "Welcome to the world, Magnus Bane." He frowned at her, eyes trained on her wings as she extended them to their full length. "But I'm nothing near my father, or any of the other Angels. I think I may take after my mother." She said with a small laugh, but Jace and Clary looked at one another. Good to know that this girl took after a Queen of Hell. Ignoring the questioning look Magnus gave her, she picked up a file and started carving notches for the bowstring, blowing the sawdust away as it gathered on her hands. "So… Will you let me help you catch this Sebastian guy?" Jace shook his head, but Clary and Isabelle nodded and Arella smiled. "Thanks guys." She said, resting the bow back on the workbench and tucking her wings to her back again as she reached for the hunk of adamas she had placed on the bench.

"What are you using our adamas for?" Jace asked, frowning and moving forward.

"Well, come on, any normal bow would break if I used it." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Angels make their bows with a mixture of wood, regular metals and adamas." She grabbed the red-hot crucible in her bare hands and placed it on the metal tray, replacing it with an empty one and dropping the adamas inside. "That'll take like, a day to melt properly." She said, turning away from the workbench and running her fingers through the feathers on her wings before going to examine the flyer that Isabelle had brought in. "Oh. I think I've heard of this place." She said, and Jace snickered. "What? Just because I'm an Angel doesn't mean that I don't go to clubs." She said, and Magnus laughed outright. She glared at him, plucking a feather from her wing and flicking it at him, where it caught in his black hair and hung over his face. Isabelle laughed.

"Come on. It's late; we should order dinner." She said, leading all of them out into the hall and up to the living room. But Alec wasn't there. Isabelle sighed and stormed over to his bedroom door, knocking. "Alec, come on already. We're having dinner." She shouted, opening the door and freezing. Jace rushed over to her.

"Isabelle, what is it?" he asked. Isabelle backed away from the door, hitting the opposite wall and sliding down to the floor.

"He's gone." She turned to the others, her eyes instantly flickering to Magnus. "Alec is gone."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again, readers! First of all, I would like to apologize for the way I have been spelling the word 'stele'. My computer auto-cowrecks it to 'steele' (I can't imagine why) and it is rather difficult to contend with this small bug. So I am sorry about that, I am working on it in the more recent chapters. I have a TON written, so I will do my best to keep all my spellings consistent in the future and fix the badly corrected words. **

**In other news, I do NOT own the Mortal Instruments. The only thing I own is Arella. That is all. Please enjoy!**

Chapter 3

It had been two hours since Isabelle had discovered her little brother's disappearance, and the note that he had left taped to the headboard of his bed. _Dear Isabelle, Jace, Clary and Magnus; I'm sorry that I'm leaving you like this. But I can't stand being here anymore. Jace, you will always be my brother. Isabelle, keep an eye on him for me. And Magnus… There's nothing left to say. Alec_. Isabelle was sitting in a comatose state on the couch, Jace beside her with Clary in his arms. Both girls were crying, and Jace was biting his lip so hard he was nearly bleeding. But Magnus seemed to be taking it the hardest. He had locked himself in Alec's bedroom, and was collapsed on the bed. Arella could hear his sobs from her room, where she had barricaded herself, determined to keep away from everyone's grieving. She couldn't stand being around sad people; it made her feel heavy. But the sound of Magnus wailing from three rooms away made her heart lurch up into her throat and brought tears to her eyes. Just as she had sensed what Alec felt, Magnus' pain pierced her like a knife, making her feel sick to the stomach. This had happened to him before, and this occurrence was dredging up old scars and tearing them open. Every inch of her longed to comfort him, to pull him into her arms and tell him that it was alright, that he wouldn't hurt forever, that he was wonderful and would find someone to love him for the rest of forever, but she couldn't. Instead, she preoccupied herself by plucking a primary feather from her wing and fashioning a quill out of it with the knife Isabelle had lent her. She needed help, she needed comfort, but she didn't know where to get it. Feeling utterly helpless, Arella opened the window, peering outside, feeling the wind rustling through her hair and past her wings. There was a heat in her chest, pressing up into her throat, something she hadn't felt in a long time. She opened her mouth and began to sing, an old song that her Uncle had sang to her, willing the notes to reach him, to call him down, to ask him for help. Her voice echoed around the building, drawing everyone's attention, even Magnus stopped crying long enough to listen to her. Arella fell silent as she felt a warm breeze around her, caressing her cheeks.

"Michael?" she said, turning around. She turned, but she couldn't see anyone. But his presence was so strong, she could feel his arms around her, hear his calming voice in her ear.

"Arella, be still." He said, the warm air encircling her. "You can find the answer on your own. I've always told you; trust yourself." And with that little note, he was gone, the kind presence vanished as quickly as it had come. Arella shivered as the cool air of the room hit her, pulling her wings around her. Michael had never steered her wrong before, he had always looked out for her and protected her, like a father. With a sigh, she made her way to the door and walked out into the living room where Jace, Clary and Isabelle were situated. None of them had eaten, the Chinese food they ordered was sitting on the table, untouched.

"Hi." She said, sitting down on the edge of the couch and looking at Clary and Isabelle.

"Hi Arella." Clary said, when Isabelle refused to answer her and continued to stare at the opposite wall. "Sorry about all of this." She said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for-" Arella began, but another loud cry from Magnus cut her off and she closed her eyes, biting her lip and breathing deeply. She hated this; the warmth Michael's essence had provided her seemed to drain away as her heart wrenched painfully, a single tear dripping down her face. Clary placed a hand on her arm and Arella managed a smile, wiping her face. "I'm sorry. It just… I hate hearing him like that." She said. Jace looked at her, sympathy in his blue eyes. "I can feel what he's feeling, I know how much pain he's in… He's experiencing all of this over again, he's been abandoned before-" She hid her face in her hands, her wings wrapping around herself and letting out a choked cry. Clary took a hold of Arella's hand, giving it a squeeze. Arella squeezed back, sniffling loudly and looking up, face wet with tears. Isabelle was watching her now, curiosity replacing grief. Arella stood up, wandering over to the window. "Michael, come back… Please." She whispered, and the warm presence filled the room again, rushing through her hair. The others felt it too, Jace looking at her as an image appeared behind her; a young man with black hair, clad in white knee-length pants. His body was opaque, but Arella turned and smiled at him.

"Trust yourself, Arella." The man said, resting his hand on her head. "And next time you call, make sure it really is an answer you can't find in your own heart." He pressed his lips to her forehead and then vanished, leaving the room feeling brighter and warmer than before.

"Who… What was that?" Jace asked, leaning over the back of the couch. Arella smiled at him, brushing the tears from her eyes.

"Michael." She said simply, earning incredulous stares from the three.

"Archangel Michael?" Isabelle said. Arella nodded.

"Yes. We have a special relationship; he's like a father to me, most of the time." She said, curling her wings bashfully. Jace frowned, turning back to Isabelle and putting a hand on her shoulder. Magnus was still crying, and Arella fiddled with her hair, trying to ignore the feelings welling up in her chest. After a few awkward moments she made her way to the table and grabbed an egg roll, nibbling on the edge and fixating on the light shining through the window onto the floor. Suddenly, there was an especially loud wail from Magnus' room, and Arella clenched her fist, smashing the roll.

"For god's sake, just go already!" Isabelle said loudly, turning to glare at her. "If you can't handle it, do something about it." Arella paled. She couldn't just go in there like she wanted to.

"I… I can't do that." She said, looking away, red in the face. Jace frowned at her.

"Why not? You were talking to him in the weapons room just fine." He said. Arella shook her head.

"No. Because it isn't the same and… I don't want to risk stirring up anything." But it wasn't only that. Arella could feel herself changing, the angelic ichor in her veins being consumed and turned black. She couldn't risk hurting Magnus if she lost it. Granted, it took days for the transition to occur, but she couldn't risk hurting him.

"What more is there to stir up?" Isabelle asked, looking suspicious. Arella blinked at her, not quite sure what to say or to do. She bit her lip, but when Isabelle stood up and started towards her, she blurted

"Magnus and I… Have a bit of a history, alright?" the Shadowhunter stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. Jace and Clary were staring at her as well, shocked.

"It was two hundred and fifty years ago… He probably doesn't recognize me at all. I was really, _really_ different back then… And I've changed so much, and I look totally different." Jace stood up, pulling Isabelle back.

"And you didn't tell us this right away _why_?" she said, enraged.

"I didn't think it would end up mattering! He doesn't remember it, it only lasted a few years-"

"A few… He doesn't remember it, it only lasted a few years-"

"A few _years?_ That's a long time!" Isabelle said, dropping down into one of the chairs around the table.

"Not when you're five hundred and fifty. That's how old Magnus was. I was only about one hundred and fifty." She said. Jace shushed Isabelle when she opened her mouth again.

"When you say you were different, what do you mean?" he asked. Arella glanced at Isabelle, the only person in the room who didn't know of her lineage. "Just tell us. It doesn't matter anymore." He snapped impatiently.

"I was a lot more like my mother back then." She blurted. Isabelle's eyes narrowed.

"Your mother?" she said. When Arella didn't answer, Jace spoke for her.

"Her mother is Karathas. A Queen of Hell." He said. Isabelle's eyes widened, and she looked from Arella to Jace and back again.

"I was mostly a demon, I didn't know how to control myself back then. Magnus was… Younger, and a lot more demonic. But my father found me, and he tried to kill me… If I had stayed, he would have killed Magnus too. So, I left. No note, not a word. But Raziel never found him, and I took to the streets." Isabelle was still watching her, untrusting.

"What do you eat? You're a succubus; do you hunt humans?" she asked. Arella's eyes went wide and she shook her head frantically.

"What? No! I've never… Well, I did feed from one person… But he wasn't human." Jace raised his eyebrows.

"It wasn't Magnus, was it?" he asked. Arella turned bright red, but again she shook her head.

"No… You just saw him a moment ago, actually." She said.

"You _fed_ on _Archangel Michael_?" Isabelle asked, looking outraged. Arella raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, looking scared.

"He offered! He found me, starving after I left Magnus, and he saved my life. His blood also started to suppress the demonic blood my mother had given me… And I changed. Into what I am now. Michael took me in, and here I am." She explained. "But it doesn't matter to Raziel. He told the Clave to kill me if they ever found me." Jace held up a hand, silencing her.

"Wait. If you don't hunt humans, how did you manage for the first one hundred years?" he asked, looking suspicious. Arella smiled, looking mischievous.

"I stole from blood banks. Go up to the boy at the front desk, maybe flirt a bit, and then slip by with the usual 'I'm here to pick some up for the hospital' excuse. Worked every time. And I never had to hurt anyone." She said, running the tip of one finger over one of her feathers. Isabelle leaned back, looking slightly more relaxed than before. Silence fell over the group, with Arella looking very embarrassed and Jace still watching her. Magnus gave another cry, and she jumped from her chair, opening the window and throwing her leg over the sill.

"What are you doing?" Clary asked, rushing over to her and grabbing her arm.

"Relax. Mundanes can't see me at all." She said, pulling her arm from Clary's grasp and folding her wings to her body. It was a long way down, but Arella closed her eyes and leapt, snapping out her wings and shooting up towards the clouds. Jace and Isabelle rushed to the window, looking up as Arella arched into the sky, letting out a joyful cry as she spiraled though the air, coming to rest on one of the Institutes spires. She could see everything, the whole city, and with her enhanced eyesight she could make out the shapes of hawks circling over Central Park. Beautiful. She could hear the others calling to her, so she jumped from the spire, looping through the air before diving through the window, folding her wings and landing with a light 'thump!' on the floor.

"You called?" she asked, feeling much lighter and happier. Even Magnus' wailing seemed to have less of an effect on her, though she could see the tips of her wings starting to turn darker.

"Yeah." Jace said. "Don't go flying away like that. Some Shadowhunter could see you." He said. Arella looked at him quizzically.

"Concerned? That's sweet of you. But really, don't be so concerned." Still, she obliged and sat down on the couch, closing her eyes as Magnus continued to cry. The sun was setting, and Isabelle dismissed herself, heading back to her room and slamming the door behind her. Clary and Jace left as well, leaving Arella alone in the living room. She sighed, then headed down to the armory. She hated waiting for adamas to melt, and since no one was around… When she reached the room, she saw that the heavenly metal was only half melted. She lifted the crucible from the flames, examining it. Succubi weren't effected by heat, so the red-hot flame was not problem for her. Reaching down to the pit of her stomach, she gathered the demonic blood waiting to spread through her veins, channeling the energy into her throat and exhaling slowly. Black fire escaped from between her lips, heating the crucible to a white hot state. The adamas within instantly melted, bubbling violently. Perfect. Arella replaced the crucible, replacing the human flame with her own hellish variety and leaving the adamas to boil. Next, she hunted down a metal tray and some sand, which was kept in a jar near the workbench. No doubt Jace and the others had no idea how to use it, but metal was Arella's domain. She spread the sand over the tray, wetting it down with water and then some glue. Using a scrap of metal, she carved out four blade shapes in the sand, adding more glue and water and leaving it to set, baking the mold with a quick blast of her own flame. She took up the crucible, artfully pouring the adamas evenly into the molds the sand steamed, but didn't falter, and the metal quickly began to harden and cool. She smiled, and then added something special, something traditional. She took one of her own feathers, downy and soft, and blew black flames onto it, waiting until it crumbled into soot. Satisfied, she sprinkled the ashes onto the hardening blades, where they sank into the metal and vanished. Perfect. Arella leaned back against the work bench, dipping her hand into the flame. It licked over her skin, black and red, dancing beautifully but not burning her hand. The heat made something stir in her chest, and she could feel her blood shifting, demonic ichor gradually consuming the gold blood, her gift from Michael. Magnus sobbed again from above, and she felt a lurch of pity and longing, which disgusted her. How could she even so much as _consider_ it? Arella extinguished the flame, shuddering. She hated her demonic blood, how it overtook her whether she wanted it to or not, how she lost her inhibitions and did whatever her body told her to. The sound of Magnus crying did more than just incite pity now. It made her want to embrace him, to calm him in any way she could. To feel him in her arms and listen to the beat of his pulse. Arella didn't realize she was gripping the metal scrap in her hand until she felt the ichor dripping down her wrist. She looked, slightly terrified. The gold was tainted with swirls of black, like molten ebony coursing through her veins. There was a strange burn at the back of her throat and Arella realized, with a jolt of horror, that it was hunger. She needed blood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! Wow, two chapters uploaded tonight... I need to get a social life. Anyway, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to read my story! Thank you so much, and feel free to comment or critique! (But please, no flames)**

**Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say it? I only own Arella; she is a product of my mind. Everything else is owned and controlled by Cassandra Clare. **

Chapter 4

Magnus awoke the next morning, unable to remember when exactly he had fallen asleep. His hair was disheveled, falling in front of his face and sticking to his face, which was still wet with tears. A quick glance around the room brought his loss into fresh relief, and he had to bite his lip to stop fresh sobs from escaping him. There were voices echoing from the living room, and Magnus couldn't ignore the gnawing hunger grinding at his stomach for much longer. With considerable effort, the warlock pulled himself out of bed, not bothering to look in the mirror as he passed and opening the door. Jace, Clary and Isabelle were all seated in the living room, arguing about something on the news. A floorboard creaked, and all three of them looked around.

"Magnus. Hi." Isabelle said, looking a bit apprehensive. He ignored her, slouching over to the refrigerator and pulling it open.

"Look, Isabelle, we _have_ to deal with this." Jace said, diverting the attention back onto himself. "If it was her, I think it's an issue." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Jace, come on! I would rather have her robbing the local blood bank than killing people around the city! She's not breaking any Clave laws-"

"We don't even know if it was her." Isabelle said exasperatedly, leaning back against the couch. Magnus cracked open a soda, wishing that it was alcoholic, and made an attempt to join the conversation.

"What happened?" he asked, wincing internally as his voice cracked awfully.

"There was a robbery at the blood bank in Manhattan. And we think it was Arella." Jace explained, looking at Magus. The warlock made a noise of ascension, staring down at the soda and watching as the bubbles flicked against the aluminum can. Clary stood up, marching into the hall and knocking on Arella's door before Jace could stop her.

"Arella? Are y-"

"I did it. End of discussion." Arella shouted from inside, and Clary blinked. Jace smirked at her and Isabelle frowned.

"Can I come in?" Clary asked. There was a rustling sound from the room, and a moment later the door opened. Arella peered out, her eyes as red as her lips.

"I'm coming out now." She said, closing the door behind her with her foot. She looked… Different. Her hair looked darker, her eyes were crimson and flashing, and there was a blood bag clutched in her hand. "Sorry you have to see me like this." She said, lifting the bag to her lips and quickly draining half of it. "I haven't fed in decades…" she looked a bit sheepish as she wiped some blood from her lips. Isabelle was staring at her, eyes wide, and Jace just looked defensive and slightly grossed out. Arella's eyes fell on Magnus, and a look of sympathy overcame her.

"You're drinking soda?" she said, walking to the cabinet and grabbing a glass. Magnus looked up at her, blinking slowly as she slammed the wine glass down on the table and went to her room, returning a moment later with an ornate black glass bottle. "Are you a warlock or not?" she muttered, giving him a pat on the shoulder and splashing some blood into the glass.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked, standing up and moving towards her. Arella looked up at him, uncorking the bottle with her teeth and pouring the deep caramel liquid in, swirling it with the blood.

"Making the poor boy a drink. It helped me a shit-ton." She said, sliding the glass in front of Magnus. The warlock examined it, and then looked at her, utterly confused.

"How… How did you know?" he asked, gaze flickering from the drink to Arella and back again. She shrugged, pouring herself a glass of blood with a splash of the strong-smelling liquor.

"It's a classic drink." She said, with a shrug, draining her own glass and standing up, stretching out her wings, which had turned almost totally black, with just a few flecks of deep grey at the tips."Not like I've never had one before, Bane." She turned and strode back to her room, still swigging from the blood bag as she went. Clary looked to Jace.

"Well, that was…"

"Weird." Isabelle finished for her. Magnus nodded, not quite sure of what to make of the whole occurrence. Something was flashing at the back of his mind, something he didn't care to remember, especially not now. Instead he bit his lip, tipping the rest of his drink down his throat, sighing as it burned, erasing a small fraction of the pain he felt in his heart. He groaned, exiting the kitchen and making his way back to his room. The drink had helped, yes, but it had also confused him. How could he even be _thinking_ about anyone else at a time like this? Frustrated, he slammed the door behind him, dropping onto his bed and resting the glass on his bedside table. Resting his head in his hands he sighed, trying to force the old memories that Arella's behavior had stirred up back into the vaults of his mind. Her eyes; he knew eyes like that, gazing at him though the gloom of the dark bedroom, half lidded, inches from his own.

"She's gone. She's gone and she isn't coming back. What about _Alec_?" he said aloud to himself, not realizing that he was digging his nails into his arm, leaving red crescent marks in his skin. He felt so terribly guilty; not even Blood Rum could suppress the awful weight on his heart. He half wished it would stop, that he was human and that he hadn't been around for eight hundred years, but he wasn't and he had. Feeling weak with emotion he lay down, closing his eyes, feeling the pain in his chest well into a sob that escaped him.

Arella leaned against the wall, looking at the Styrofoam ice box that contained her blood supply. She had enough to last her a while; probably until this little episode was over and even after that. Plenty for some more Blood Rum for Magnus… Magnus. Arella gave a little shiver as she let her mind wander, back two hundred and fifty years, to the time when she and Magnus had met. It had been at a club, too early in the morning to bother sleeping. She had met up with a group of fellow Succubi, and the girls had persuaded her to go to a nearby joint with them, to which she agreed. There, the group had quickly dispersed, each of the girls dragging a different boy off to one of the many back rooms. But Arella had remained, moping by the bar, nursing a drink that she knew would have no effect on her. And that's when Magnus had showed up, his hair a bit less teased and his face a bit less made up than she had seen in the past few days. He had promptly sat down at the bar next to her, ordered a drink, and attempted to strike up a conversation. But Arella had been preoccupied, worried about Raziel and how long she would be able to stay in town until he found her again. But the warlock was just as persistent back then as he was now, and he didn't let up until she talked to him. And talk they did, until she managed to drag him onto the dance floor after a few more drinks on his part. The rest of the night had passed as a blur, flashing lights and the feeling of Magnus dancing against her, but he offered her a place to stay and she accepted. And that was how it started; three years later she was still with him, although she had long since graduated from sleeping on the couch with Chairman Meow purring contentedly next to her. But one night, she had awakened, every inch of her screaming to run, and she knew that Raziel had found her again. She remembered, vividly, kissing Magnus once more as he slept, chest tight and tears streaming down her face as she ran, leaving most of her things behind. She hadn't fed in over a year and a half and she collapsed, in an alleyway, praying that her death would be quick. But as she cried to Heaven, Michael heard her. And she would never forget his smile when she told him who she was, how he gave her his own blood to save her life and how he hid her for the next sixty years. It was thanks to him that she was now more an Angel than a demon, that she no longer needed blood as often. He had saved her life, and since then she had been like family to him. But nothing had ever erased the emptiness she felt when she thought of Magnus, even without the demonic blood that had fallen in love with him in the first place.

"Screw it." She said, shaking her head and grabbing another blood bag, piercing it with her fangs and sucking down the coppery liquid inside. Part of her felt utterly sickened, her heart heavy as she heard Magnus cry out again, his anguish stabbing her like an ice cold knife. She growled, opening the window and spreading her wings. Who cared what Jace had said; she needed to fly. To find those hawks she had seen circling over the mountains and join them. Draining the bag, she clambered onto the sill and pushed up into the air, her ebony wings carrying her into the sky. She knew Jace and the others saw her, but she couldn't care with the wind whistling in her ears, caressing her cheeks and sending a warm spark through her entire body. The hawks remained, wheeling through the air, and she shot towards them, effortlessly joining their ranks. Animals had always been fond of her, especially cats and hawks. She suspected that the hawks respected her both as a hunter and an Angel, and that cats could sense her demonic blood; felines always did seem to have affinity for warlocks and the like. Honestly, she was a bit disappointed that Magnus hadn't brought the famed Chairman Meow with him; surely the cat would have remembered her even if the warlock didn't. The demon curled in her chest purred at the thought of Magnus, wishing that he could see her flying, wishing that he would recognize her and kiss her like he used to. But Arella had enough common sense to know that it was impossible. Magnus was too wounded over Alec, that idiot who left without knowing what he had. Reaching out with her mind, she found Alec, still in Idris, sleeping in a strange house, on someone else's couch. At least he was safe and, from what she could feel from this distance, not hurting as much as he had been. Regardless of how much he had hurt Magnus, she understood how it felt to leave the one you cared for all too well. One of the hawks shrieked, drawing Arella out of her thoughts and back into reality. The bird was gliding next to her, its golden eyes fixed intelligently on her own crimson irises. She chirruped, and the bird banked to the side, Arella following close behind. She loved flying; she could see everything if she flew high enough, her eyesight rivaled even these birds of prey. She flew until the sun began to set, and even then she didn't return to the Institute, preferring to spend the night in one of the many large trees, watching as the stars turned overhead. With so much blood in her system she had the energy to stay awake for days if she had to. But soon the others would insist on preparing for the Nightclub, getting ready to capture the Angel-Killer, Sebastian, and she would have to more controlled by that point. A meteor shot by, and Arella closed her eyes, trying to wish something that wasn't totally selfish. But she failed. All she wanted was Magnus, and that was all she could wish for.

"I had him first." She mumbled, trying to rationalize her childish feelings. But she knew it was stupid to wish such things; the Angel only knew if they would come to pass. Closing her eyes, she ignored the shouts from the Institute as Isabelle discovered her room empty as well. But she would return in the morning, after she had a chance to calm down and sleep under the stars. Content, Arella wrapped her black wings around herself, settling down and allowing sleep to carry her off.

_ She stood in a polished room, floor made of marble and stone she could not name. All around her, people danced, couples held lovingly in one another's arms. She turned, intent on finding the exit, but instead she found Magnus' emerald eyes just inches away, his smirking lips pressed to her cheek._

_"Nice of you to finally join me." He purred, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. Arella sighed, smiling and leaning into him._

_"Sorry it took so long, love." she replied, gripping the collar of his white shirt and pulling him forward. Their lips met, and it was even better than she remembered. Magnus brought her closer, fingers slipping under the straps of her burgundy cocktail gown._

_"Well worth the wait." He said with a smile, starting to revolve slowly on the spot in time with the music. Arella closed her eyes, savoring how warm his arms felt around her, how his heart still beat faster every time she passed a hand over his cheek. "Arella?" she looked up. Something was wrong. The dance hall had vanished; everything had gone dark except for Magnus' form. As he smiled at her, a shape appeared behind him. She knew those eyes, the flowing black hair and fanged grin._

_"No…" she said, reaching out to him, but it was too late._

_"I love you." He said as the Queen of Hell sank her fangs into his neck._


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! Here's the next chapter! First of all, the song I use near the end is "Blue Lips" by Regina Spektor. Please please PLEASE rate and review for me! I love hearing from my readers.**

**I do NOT own The Mortal Instruments. I only own Arella.**

Chapter 5

Arella awoke on the ground the next morning, left side aching but not seriously injured. Thank god for bone strength that she had inherited from her mother. The nightmare was fresh in her mind; Magnus' face going white as her mother drained the life from him. And Arella forced to watch, unable to move or help him. Fear shot through her; this sort of vision had never been wrong before. It was how she knew when her father was coming for her, how she knew when she needed to run in order to save Magnus. But now, she worried that the warlock might already be dead, that the Queen of Hell might have reached him. She stood quickly, flexing her wings and taking to the air, shooting off towards the Institute. When she reached the window to her room, she found that it had been left open. As she clambered inside, she noticed that her feathers were starting to transition back to grey; she was back in control. The others were all in the living room, and they looked up when Arella burst in, eyes wide in fear.

"What's wrong?" Isabelle asked, standing up, looking concerned. "Where did you go? We were all worried when-"

"Where is Magnus?" Arella asked, interrupting her. Jace looked surprised.

"In his room…" he said, a bit uncertainly. Arella turned and ran to the door, opening it, terrified that she might be greeted by the sight of blood and a mutilated body. But no. Magnus was laying on his bed, eyes closed and breathing evenly in sleep. Arella sighed audibly, sliding to the floor with one hand pressed to her chest.

"Thank you. By the Angel, thank you." She said, leaning against the door frame, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes.

"Arella? What happened?" Isabelle crouched next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I had a dream… A vision. But it doesn't matter now. It doesn't matter, it was _just_ a dream." She said, numb with relief. Magnus stirred; she was speaking too loudly, and opened his green eyes, looking at the scene taking place in his doorway. Arella flushed, quickly wiping her eyes and standing up.

"What…?" he said groggily, sitting up and stretching in a way that was so feline that it made her heart ache. He used to do that every morning when he woke up. Arella shook her head.

"Nothing." She said quickly, pulling Isabelle away and slamming the door. The female Shadowhunter glared at her, perplexed.

"What in the name of the Angel was _that_ about?" Jace asked, sitting down at the kitchen table and watching as Arella dropped onto the couch. She shook her head again, but Isabelle sat next to her.

"Arella, tell us." She said, and the angel caved.

"I have visions in my dreams sometimes. And last night… I dreamt that my mother-that the Queen of Hell… She killed him." Arella wrapped her wings around herself. She was still shaken by the mental image of Magnus' lifeless body, how his eyes went dark as the lifeblood was drained from him. Unwittingly, she let out a small whimper. She hated the image, wanted to purge it from her mind, but she couldn't. Ignoring Isabelle's protests, Arella stood up, grabbing the bottle of Goblin Rum from the cabinet where she had left it and popped the cork, swigging directly from the bottle.

"Arella!" Clary said, but she waved her away.

"Relax. I can handle quite a bit… But maybe I don't want to handle it." She said, under her breath, flopping back onto the couch and taking another long drag and sighing as the liquor burned in her stomach, filling her with anincomparable warmth. Isabelle watched her, looking a bit concerned as the angel rested the bottle on the floor, her face slightly flushed. "Look, I haven't been drunk in decades. Give me a break." She said when she saw her staring.

"Is this really the way to deal with this?" Jace asked, picking up the bottle and sniffing it. "This smells like really strong stuff." Arella blinked at him.

"Jace… I'm the daughter of the _Queen_ of _Hell_. If I can't handle my liquor, no one can." She said defiantly. Jace took an experimental sip and gagged, eyes watering.

"I don't know how the Queen of Hell does it." He said, wiping his mouth and replacing the bottle next to Arella. "That's absurd." She laughed at him, taking up the bottle again and drinking, her eyes locked on him the whole time. There that was enough, otherwise she was likely to do something _really_ stupid. She wormed the cork back into the top of the bottle and stowed it back in the cabinet.

"We can use that again, hopefully on a happier occasion." She said, standing up and stretching. "Until then, I suppose that'll keep me moderately numb and in a suitable stupor." Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Arella, I really-"She was interrupted by a loud whooshing sound coming from Magnus' room, like wind passing through a tunnel. Arella rushed to the door, Isabelle close on her heels.

"Magnus?" Isabelle said, knocking on the door before opening it. Magnus was gone, and a single piece of lilac paper was floating to the floor. Arella dashed in and grabbed it, turning it around so she could read it.

_'I'll be back. I need my cat. Hope you don't mind.'_ She sighed in relief; Magnus hadn't left for good.

"Arella, I think you need to stop worrying so much." Isabelle said. "Especially about Magnus. What do you want from him?" she hadn't meant for the question to sound so suspicious, but Arella glared at her.

"I want him to be happy. Is that too much for you?" she said icily, turning her back on the Shadowhunter and stalking back into the living room, situating herself in a chair and staring out the window. She wanted to fly again; maybe she would sleep outside again, though she should probably ask first so they didn't panic like they had yesterday. A sudden loud snap drew their attention and they all turned. Magnus had reappeared in the doorway, a kitten clutched in his arms. Arella instantly recognized Chairman Meow; he looked exactly the same as he had two hundred and fifty years ago. His grey striped white fur was as fluffy as ever, and his big blue eyes traveled around the room, taking everything in. The instant he saw Arella, he mewled, leaping out of Magnus' arms and darting over to her, pawing at her leg.

"Aw. Hi there!" she said, finding it very difficult to act like she had never seen this cat before. Chairman Meow apparently wasn't in on the gimmick, because he licked her cheek and curled up to her shoulder the instant she picked him up. "Aren't you sweet?" she cooed, scratching him behind the ears like she remembered he loved. Magnus was watching, an odd expression on his face. Chairman Meow certainly never acted this friendly towards people, especially strangers like Arella. Even Alec would startle him on occasion when he came over- The thought of Alec made Magnus shiver, and he pressed his mind back onto Chairman Meow's odd behavior.

"He's never taken to anyone like that before. He seems to really like you." The warlock said, watching as Arella flushed, looking down at the kitten in her arms.

"I just have a way with cats. It's always been like that, I suppose." She said quickly, holding Chairman Meow out to Magnus. "Here. I don't want to hog him; you're his owner anyway." She said, ignoring as the cat mewled in protest. Magnus took the kitten, settling him into his lap and petting him to keep him calm. Isabelle jolted as the cell phone in her pocket suddenly rang, and everyone in the room jumped.

"Hello?" Isabelle said, pressing the phone to her ear. Her face lit up and she instantly put the cell phone on the table, setting it to speaker. "Alec!" she said. Magnus stiffened, but Jace rushed to Isabelle's side, looking delighted.

"Where are you? Are you alright, Alec?" he asked. Alec's voice echoed tinnily from the other end.

"Yeah. I'm fine, actually. At a payphone in Switzerland, but everything's good. And… I'm coming back, just not _now_. I need some time away, you know?" he said. Jace nodded and, remembering that Alec couldn't see him, made a small noise of agreement. Isabelle glanced at Magnus, who was clenching his fists so tightly that his arms were trembling.

"Alec… Do you think that maybe, you would want to talk t-"

"No." Alec's voice was firm, unfeeling. "Never again." Arella turned to Magnus, who looked like he had just been slapped. "I have better things to do than waste my time with that warlock." Arella reached for Magnus, but he was already gone, Chairman Meow yowling as the door to his room slammed. Jace grit his teeth, but Alec just made a low snorting sound.

"How quickly love turns to hate, you heartless demon of grief." Arella said, standing up, biting her lip so hard that gold and black-flecked blood dripped down her chin.

"Arella!" Isabelle exclaimed, looking aghast, but Arella snarled.

"I hope for his sake that we never meet in person." She said, her eyes flashing red and her wings flaring out from her back. Jace opened his mouth, but she turned and fled to her room, closing the door behind her and grabbing another blood packet. Sitting on the windowsill with her feet dangling outside, she drained the pack, tossing it to the side and letting out a low growl. She could hear Magnus' cries even from here, and she hated how there was nothing she could do. Although at this point, she really felt that Magnus deserved better than this, and her demonic blood boiled as she thought of what _she_ could offer him. But no, that was impossible at the moment, especially with Magnus still mourning that…

"Worthless child." Arella said aloud, slamming her fist into the wall. There was a scratching and a yowling at her door; Chairman Meow was trying to get into her room. With a sigh, she opened the door, and the kitten slipped inside, nuzzling against her ankles.

"What do you want me to do about it?" she asked, sitting down on the bed. Chairman Meow purred. "I can't just go in there!" she said. The kitten blinked at her. "Oh, shut up." She said.

"Are you talking to a _cat_?" Clary had appeared in the doorway, and was staring at Arella, looking slightly concerned.

"Oh… I guess I was. He's asking me to- Nevermind." She said. Clary smiled, sitting down next to Arella.

"Look… I really don't know all that much about you and Magnus and what happened, but if you need me, I'm here to talk." She said, patting Arella on the shoulder. Arella smiled; she had liked Clary from the start.

"Actually… Do you mind listening to me for a minute?" she asked. Clary nodded, crossing her legs and leaning in. Arella took a deep breath; she was nervous but she knew that she would feel better once she got all of it off her chest.

"Well… I feel really, really guilty." She said.

"Why?" Clary asked. "Whatever for?"

"Because! I know that Magnus loves Alec _so_ much… But I can't help wanting him for myself again." She replied, resting her head in her hands. "But he's in pain, and I feel like I shouldn't infringe, and yet I _want_ to be there for him." Clary put her arm around Arella, giving her a soft hug.

"You shouldn't feel guilty for loving someone." She said. "It isn't always easy but… To be honest, I feel like Alec really isn't coming back. I know him, and he's determined to move on." Arella sighed. She hated to think what Magnus would do and how much more he would suffer once he realized Alec was gone for good. "But you shouldn't worry. He has forever, right?" Clary said. Slowly, she nodded, lifting her head. "So, go and comfort him. He needs it… And it looks like Chairman Meow really wants you too." The kitten was staring at the both of them, eyes wide and pleading. Arella groaned; how could she say no to a face like that? Stupid kitten.

"Alright. I'm going." She said, scooping Chairman Meow up into her arms and kicking the door open. "And Clary? Thank you." She said. The redhead smiled, standing up and following her into the hallway.

"No problem. Like I said, any time." Arella grinned, walking to Magnus' door and knocking.

"Magnus?" she said. There was a muffle sob from inside, and Arella opened the door, dropping Chairman Meow onto the floor and peering inside. It was dark, the shades drawn and all of the lights turned off. The kitten, with his enhanced night vision, padded over to the bed and jumped up, meowing. Squinting, Arella could make out Magnus' form, huddled on the bed and quivering violently with every sob. Chairman Meow settled into her lap the instant she sat down, purring contentedly.

"Magnus…" Arella said, tempted to reach for him. The warlock didn't answer, but she could see him tense as she rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn't react, so she graduated to the top of his head, gently running her fingers through his black hair. "It's going to be alright." She said softly. Magnus jolted and sat up, turning to her. Arella could see his cat-like eyes gleaming, even in the total darkness.

"How can you say that?" he said, and she could hear the anger and pain in his voice. "How can you _know_? You can't." he snapped, hands now vice-like upon her shoulders. Arella winced, more out of surprise than pain; she was used to claws digging into her skin, the pain of battle. She placed her hand on Magnus' and he released her.

"I _don't _know, Magnus. You're right, I can't possibly know. But hasn't it always turned out alright in the end?" she said, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. It wasn't the demon that compelled her, but the want, the _need_ to be near him, to silence his cries in any way she could. Magnus stared at her, something familiar flickering in his eyes for an instant before it was lost, replaced by grief.

"He hates me." He choked, fresh tears marring his face. "Alec _hates_ me." And Magnus broke, curling forward, allowing Arella to wrap her arms around him as he cried, drowning in his own tears. It was all she could do to keep him upright; Magnus was limp and trembling, and so pathetic she thought her heart might split in two.

"He's a fool." She muttered, lifting the warlock into her arms, not caring that tears and makeup and glitter were staining her shirt, wanting only to reassure him.

"Don't call him that." Magnus said, voice muffled as he buried his face in her shoulder to conceal his sobs. Arella tensed, her fingers returning to his hair, stroking softly.

"He is. Just like me." She said quietly, half-praying that Magnus couldn't really hear her. Chairman Meow joined in her efforts, kneading Magnus' arm with his paws and purring sympathetically.

"What can I do?" he whimpered. "I only stayed to give him time… But I've just ruined everything." Arella bit her lip, oblivious to the blood that began to trickle down her chin yet again. Great. She hated crying, especially in front of others, but seeing Magnus like this just pushed her to the breaking point and beyond.

"Magnus, you have forever." She said thickly. "And forever with someone is what you deserve. You _have_ to find someone, because _everyone_ can see how wonderful you are." It seemed that maybe she had drunk a little too much, because her emotions were pouring out of her like rain from a gutter. She rested her forehead against the top of Magnus' head, whimpering as she tried to suppress her cries. The warlock looked up, perplexed, and she supposed that was a better emotion than sadness.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, but Arella just shook her head, not really sure how she was supposed to answer. Her hands were covered in glitter and makeup was smeared all over the shoulder of her shirt from where he had been crying. All in all, she looked a mess. "Why?" Magnus asked again, and this time she managed a small, choked answer.

"Because you are." She replied, gently guiding his head back onto her shoulder, wiping away her tears and running her fingers through his hair again. Magnus closed his eyes as she willed his energy away, replacing it with her own and swallowing the grief building up in her chest. Gradually, his tears slowed and then stopped, his breathing evened out and Arella knew he was asleep. When she moved and he stirred she cradled him, crooning softly, a song that wasn't angelic but one of her favorites nonetheless.

_Blue Lips, Blue Veins_

_Blue,_

_The color of our planet_

_From far, far away_

Magnus sighed, halfway into a pleasant dream, or was it a memory? Of someone singing to him just like this, with her fingers running through his hair as he slept just the way that he liked. Of eyes, gazing at him with a kind of intensity that he had yet to find anywhere else. Of a smile, bashful and daring and laughing all at the same time. A name floated to the surface of his mind, a name that brought a sharp pang to his heart, yet he accepted it gratefully, for it was duller than the pain of before. Why had he been in pain? Why was he hurting now? Magnus didn't know. All he could feel was the soft brush of a hand on his cheek, and all he could hear was a song, sung from far away, from a time long ago. Kimadante.


	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome back! Another chapter posted and done! Also, just because I'm all excited, I have to tell you all... Just got accepted to college, so I will have more time to write now that the pressure is off! Enjoy, and pretty please with a cherry and a glittery Magnus Bane smile on top review!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Mortal Instruments. I only own Arella.**

Chapter 6

Magnus had stopped sobbing, his breathing pleasant and soft. Arella pulled away slowly, being careful not to wake him as she slipped off the bed and out into the hall.

"How is he?" she jumped; Clary was there, waiting for her. Arella shrugged.

"Alright now, I guess. I put him to sleep… So at least he'll have a chance to recover for a while." She meandered into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a sigh. Her face was still red; she just hoped that no one asked her why she had been crying as well. Answering Magnus had been hard enough, and she knew Isabelle wouldn't buy the same answer she had given him. Clary joined her, popping open a soda can and grumbling when it fizzed over and onto her hand and jeans.

"Well, look who's back from the warlock's cave." Jace swaggered into the room, hands firmly entrenched in his pockets and a grin on his face. "Hate to break it to you, but there's been a change in plans." Clary looked up at him, confused.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked. Jace moved to answer, but Isabelle beat him to it, striding over to them, a knife in her hand.

"We're going to the Underground Tavern tonight. Intel says that Sebastian will be there. I suggest that you start getting ready. It's not going to be easy to bring him in." Arella nodded, brow knit.

"It certainly won't be that easy, seeing as we have a slight problem." Jace said. "Sebastian knows Clary, Isabelle and I. He'll notice us right away, and everything will be ruined." He glanced at Arella slyly. "That's where you come in." Clary gaped at him, astounded.

"Jace, you can't be serious." She said. "Sebastian kills angels for _fun_! Have you forgotten the wings in the library? Arella-"

"Is a Princess of Hell. And can handle this." Isabelle cut her off. "That is, if she's willing to. It's all on you." Arella blinked at her, pondering for a moment. But the answer was obvious; she didn't need to think as much as she was.

"Yes. I'm in. I wanted to help, and now I have a chance." She said. "What do I have to do?" Jace clapped her on the back, grinning smugly at Clary.

"Just keep an eye out for him when we're there. Isabelle and I can handle most of it, but we can't just wander around looking for him. A demon in a club like the Underground Tavern won't draw any attention."

"A half-demon, half-Angel." Arella clarified. Isabelle frowned, staring at her.

"Wait. I thought the offspring of demons and angels were fairies. How come you're not one the Fey?" she asked. Arella shrugged.

"I honestly don't know; and believe me I've tried to figure that out. The best answer I have is that an Angel as powerful as Raziel and a demon as powerful as a Queen of Hell produce… Well, me. You only hear about the smaller angels mating with demons. I think it's actually kind of taboo for… Well, what happened to happen. But it did, and here I am." She explained. Jace nodded slowly; he had obviously been wondering that himself. Arella stood, cracking her shoulders and flexing her wings. She needed to Mark up, and preferably find a suitable blade. Jace was already tracing healing Runes onto his arms with his stele.

"Do you need it?" he asked, offering it to Arella. She shook her head.

"Jace, I'm _half angel_." She said, twisting her arm around and pressing the tip of her index finger to her wrist. There was a small burst of light, and as Arella drew her finger over her skin the thick lines of a Rune appeared, shimmering briefly before settling into the solid shapes that all of them knew. "I don't need a stele to Mark myself like you." She continued, drawing Marks up her arms and onto her collarbone, covering her fair skin in black swirls. In the center of her chest, she drew the Rune for angelic power, and it seemed to ripple and glow against her skin, fluid and yet solid.

"Can you do me?" Isabelle asked, twisting around and baring her shoulder blade. "I can't reach." Arella nodded; Jace was too busy Marking himself and Clary to help. Isabelle shivered as the Mark burned, more powerful than she was used to.

"Strength." Arella said as she completed the design. "And drawn by the hand of an Angel, too. That one shouldn't fail." Isabelle laughed, pulling her shirt back down and taking up her own stele again.

"Arella." Jace was calling to her, eyes still fixed on the Rune he was tracing onto the back of his hand. "Magnus is coming with us." Arella blinked, surprised.

"Really? When did you ask him?" she said, pushing the stele aside and finishing the Mark herself.

"I didn't. But we need someone there who can heal, just in case one of us gets hurt. Besides, I have a feeling that he's going to be our real ticket in." Jace replied with a wicked grin. "The point is, you seem to be the only one able to get him to speak in full sentences, so go and tell him he's coming with us." Arella made a noise of protest, looking to the door.

"But… He's asleep." She said. "And please don't make me go through that again. I can only handle so much." Jace grumbled, but Clary stepped in.

"She can tell him later, Jace. We have plenty of time." She said calmly, giving Arella a little wink. Arella smiled, turning away from Jace and mouthing a quick 'thank you' at Clary, who nodded.

"Look, we have bigger things to deal with than the warlock." Isabelle said, pointing at Arella. "What are you going to wear? You've been wearing the same two shirts over the past four days and I can't stand to look at you anymore." She grabbed the angel's wrist and pulled her out of the living room and into the hall. "There's no way that they'll let you in if you show up looking like that." She said with disdain. Clary, who had finished Marking herself, trotted up behind them.

"Can I borrow that green dress again, Isabelle?" she asked. Isabelle nodded, opening the door to her room and leading Arella inside.

"I'm not that worried about you; you've learned how to handle yourself. But this one here…" she gestured at Arella. "I have no idea what to put her in." Arella sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching as Isabelle picked through her closet, discarding numerous dresses after only seconds of consideration. She had never really been one for this dressing up thing. Even back when she had been more into going out and hanging in bars, she hadn't really concerned herself with dresses. Usually she would throw on the first nice shirt and skirt that she saw and counted on her natural Succubus charms to get her what she needed. But here she was stuck with Isabelle, who was holding a slinky black dress up to her body, examining it.

"I think this looks your size. But what about the wings?" she asked, gesturing to the feathery limbs still folded behind Arella.

"I can just-" Arella said, and with that the wings vanished, the tattooed chains slinking back from around her arms and locking over them once again. "There. Not a problem." She stood up and turned, showing the two girls her back. It looked exactly as it had the day she had arrived. Isabelle smiled and handed her the dress.

"The bathroom is right over there. I'll concentrate on finding you some suitable shoes." Arella shrugged; she didn't see why she couldn't just wear flats, and closed the bathroom door behind her.

It had been a while since she had seen her own reflection. Mirrors hadn't been priority while she was on the run, and having Magnus around had distracted her enough that she hadn't really bothered to see how she looked. It wasn't as bad as she had expected. Her hair looked a bit out of order, and she had a faint scar from the demon bite, but other than that she looked alright, like herself. Leaning in closer, she examined her eyes. Mostly violet, with a few red flecks still lingering behind. Oh well, those would fade in a few days. She stripped off her shirt, tossing it onto the counter and splashing cold water onto her face. The demon laying dormant in her chest purred at the thought of going to a club, but she ignored it, sliding into the dress and stepping back. It looked… Nice. Really nice, actually. The black fabric hugged her waist and accentuated her hips, and the silk rose stitched onto the side brought out the specks of red in her eyes. Arella opened the door, slipping out into the room again.

"Wow, you look great." Isabelle said, instantly grabbing her wrist and pulling her over to the vanity, pushing her down into the small seat and fussing with her hair. "Up or down?" she asked, turning to Clary. She considered for a moment.

"Down." Clary looked great, wearing a dark emerald dress that fell to just above her knees and a silver necklace with matching earrings. Isabelle jerked her head back, forcing her to look in the mirror as she teased and brushed Arella's hair until it shone and curled like Isabelle's. Clary smiled, and then Isabelle picked up a pallet and began mixing eye shadow.

"I think red eyeliner. Now close 'em." Isabelle crouched in front of Arella and she complied, wincing a little as the brush tickled her eyelids.

"How much longer?" she asked as she felt more tickling on her eyes and around them.

"Not much. But you need some glitter." Arella wished she could see what this girl was doing to her, but with her eyes closed all she could tell was light from dark. After a moment the brushes stopped.

"Wow. I think Magnus would be proud of you." Clary said, and Arella finally opened her eyes. She was staring at an ethereal being, with hair that curled and waved like flame and eyes that were lined with coal and glittered like embers. It took a moment to realize that it was her reflection in the mirror, and she said the words she never thought she would say.

"I… I look like my mother." She said. Isabelle glanced at her, concerned.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she said. Arella shrugged.

"It's good… She may be evil, but she's supposedly even more beautiful than an angel." Clary said, and Arella blushed.

"Well, I wouldn't say that I'm _that_ pretty." Arella replied, a bit sheepishly. Isabelle smiled.

"You're pretty darn close." She said. Arella flushed deeper but appreciated the compliment. She stood up and let Isabelle sit, watching as she commenced applying her own makeup. "Shouldn't you go and wake Sleeping Beauty?" she joked as she spread lipstick on her lips. "I'm sure he won't mind it if you're the one waking him."

"W-what?" Arella stuttered, eyes wide. Clary smiled, but looked at Isabelle.

"Don't tease her." She said. "But really, you should probably wake him." Arella nodded, thanking Isabelle for her help and slipping out into the hallway. Jace was standing in the living room, already dressed in a white button-down and black jeans.

"Oh…" he said, staring at her. Arella laughed.

"How would Clary feel about that look you're giving me?" she said. Jace frowned at her, but she winked and flounced to Magnus' door, feeling suddenly lighter and more daring. She knocked once, twice, three times, and when she got no answer, she entered.

"Oh!" Magnus was standing next to his bed, naked to the waist and staring at the floor-length mirror propped against the wall. He turned, his expression changing from one of pure numbness to one of astonishment and faint recognition.

"Arella?" he said, a little uncertainly. She nodded, blushing and approaching him.

"We're going tonight, to capture Sebastian. And Jace told me to tell you that he needs you to come." She said. Magnus frowned, leaning against the bed.

"I don't know. I'm not ready to go out to a club…" he said. Arella put a hand on his shoulder, looking up at him imploringly and, if Magnus wasn't mistaken, adoringly.

"Do I need to get you drunk again?" she asked, and her voice was so sincere that Magnus had to laugh.

"Maybe. It might help." He admitted. It felt good to smile, even just a little bit. Arella gave him a once over, and knowing that her eyes were sliding over his bare torso made the warlock shiver.

"Well, there's no way that Isabelle will let you out looking like _that_. I mean, look what she did to me." She said, gesturing to the dress and the makeup. Magnus was looking, and he smiled softly.

"It looks amazing, trust me." He said. Arella pulled back a little, her heart skipping a beat. There was a silence in which Arella stared at the ground and Magnus mostly stared at her, battling with the thoughts whirling around his head.

"Well, you should get dressed." Arella said, pushing past him and flicking on the lights. The warlock hissed, blinking hard as the sudden glare hit him full in the face. "How about this?" she pulled a black mesh shirt from the closet and tossed it at him, followed by a pair of black and deep purple skinny jeans. Magnus looked at her, perplexed.

"You have good taste." He said, slipping on the shirt. Normally, he would have just shed his pants without caring, but he felt oddly bashful and fled to the bathroom to change. Arella amused herself by digging around his makeup kit and finding some colors and glitter she thought would accentuate the colors in his eyes. With a laugh, she remembered the last time Magnus had asked her to help him choose his outfit. Of course, Magnus didn't _know_ who she was, but it still gave her the same little thrill, knowing that she was somehow part of his life. The bathroom door opened and the warlock stepped out, still fastening the buckle on his electrum belt. "Just because you have good taste doesn't mean you get to mess with my makeup." He said, glaring at her with those amazing eyes. Arella glared right back, feeling her eyes involuntarily flare crimson. Magnus flinched as she turned and headed out the door, shouting over her shoulder,

"Don't take too long." The door closed with a loud 'snick' and Magnus found himself alone again. He felt so… Strange, nostalgic almost, like he was looking at an old photograph of someone he didn't quite recognize. He dusted on some glitter and lined his eyes with a shade of turquoise that brought out the golden flecks in his eyes, the usual routine. But it wasn't accompanied by the usual joy he took from doing his makeup, nor was he excited to go to the Underground tonight. If it was up to the warlock, he would sit in his bed, maybe drink a little and spend the night moping with Chairman Meow. But there was a sharp rapping on the door and he sighed, throwing down the brush and opening the door. It was Arella, and her face went bright red all over again the second she saw him.

"Wow. I'm not the only one who looks good." She said quietly with a smile. Magnus managed a small grin in return and looked up. Jace, Clary, Isabelle and, to his surprise, Simon, were all watching him, obviously waiting.

"Took long enough." Jace said with a smirk. Arella turned and frowned at him, snarling enough to show pointed teeth. He jerked back in surprise; she wasn't as back to normal as they had thought.

"We can leave _now_." She said, grabbing Magnus' wrist and pulling him along as the little entourage headed out the front door of the Institute and into the cooling night air. Arella gave a little shiver, but Magnus was unaffected by the change in temperature, perfectly happy in his nearly nonexistent shirt.

"Uh, Jace?" Clary said, gesturing at the empty street. "How are we going to get there?" Jace shrugged her off, glancing at his watch.

"In three, two, one-" he said, and a sleek ebony limousine pulled to a stop in front of the building. Jace smirked, bowing at the waist and extending his hand to Clary. "Ladies first." He said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi! Seventh chapter is up... Sorry it's a bit long. Got carried away with the whole thing. Anyway, I really ****_really_**** need your reviews. I'm thinking about a sequel if this all goes well. **

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Mortal Instruments... I own only Arella.**

Chapter 7

Clary graciously accepted Jace's hand and clambered into the car, her boyfriend right behind her. Isabelle grinned at Arella and then followed, Simon at her heels.

"Wait." Magnus extended his hand, offering to Arella. "May I?" she smiled softly at him; he was still the same as he had been all those years ago.

"Of course." She said, resting her hand in his and letting him help her into the car. Isabelle gave her a little wink as she sat down, and Arella playfully stuck her tongue out at her. Magnus slid into the seat next to her, looking around the interior of the care, whistling in approval.

"Nice car, Nephilim." The warlock said, taking a small bottle from the mini-bar under the far window and snapping it open. Arella nodded in agreement; the car certainly was lavish. Lights dotted the ceiling, transitioning from blue to gold to red and back. The mini-bar from which Magnus had obtained his drink was supplied with glasses and even miniature bottles of Goblin Rum, which Arella gravitated to instantly.

"It is nice, isn't it?" she said, biting down on the cork and popping it from the bottle with ease. Magnus laughed as she brought the bottle to her lips and drank, trembling as the liquor burned down her throat.

"You might not want to take too much." Magnus said. "We're not just going out for fun, you know." Arella turned to him, eyes flaming and seductive.

"Believe me, I know. But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." She said softly, winking at him and grinning. Now it was Magnus' turn to blush, and he turned to look out the window, absently nibbling on the lip of the glass bottle. Arella felt hot and satisfied, an untamed fire burning in her chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that what Magnus had said was true; this wasn't some pleasure trip. But at this point, the demon inside of her wanted to drag the warlock onto the dance floor as soon as they reached the club, and make him remember exactly who she was. Arella drained the bottle and rested it back on the mini-bar, leaning back into the seat and purring contentedly. Even Angels needed time to let loose. Outside, the city was flashing by, and Arella watched the lights, fascinated. The car slowed to a halt outside of a nondescript looking restaurant, simply dubbed 'The Tavern'. Magnus opened the door and exited first, assisting Arella and then stepping aside, waiting for the others.

"This doesn't look like a night club to me." Simon said, looking up at the restaurant skeptically. "You sure we're in the right place?" he asked Jace, who had just wormed his way out of the car.

"Of course I'm sure, bloodsucker. I've only had people scouting the place for over a week." He said testily. "Mundanes don't get to see what's underneath the restaurant, hence the _Underground Tavern_." Arella could feel the demonic energy; it was definitely coming from beneath her feet. Magnus led the way inside, looking decidedly distracted as he approached the front desk.

"Yes, can I help you? Do you have a reservation?" the man at the front desk looked like any ordinary man, but Arella could see through the glamour, to his fangs and gleaming eyes. He was a warlock.

"Yes. We're here for the party." Jace said, stepping forward. The warlock looked at him, obviously surprised that a Shadowhunter knew the beginning of the password.

"I see. What is the family name?" he asked. Jace leaned on the desk, glaring at the warlock.

"Azazel." He said. The warlock frowned, but indicated a small, inconspicuous door set near the restrooms. Jace nodded and started across the restaurant, the rest of the group trailing behind him. Arella's excitement grew as Jace threw open the door, and a burst of music startled them all.

"Let's go." Isabelle said, taking Simon's hand and pulling him down the stairs. Arella followed, turning and holding out her hand to Magnus.

"You coming?" she asked. The warlock stared at her before taking her hand and allowing her to lead him into the Underground Tavern.

Inside, the lights were flashing, and a dense smoke seemed to hang over everything. Arella grinned, feeling her blood flare black as the heady atmosphere overtook her. The sight of all those people dancing on the floor, the feeling of all of the energy around her, it burned her from the inside out. Magnus glanced at her, noticing the change in her demeanor.

"Arella?" he asked. She turned to him lazily, smiling, eyes half lidded and lust-filled. The wings inked on her back were turning black again, demonic blood roiling as she leaned her head back, hair falling over her shoulders as she sighed happily.

"Yes, Bane?" she purred, grabbing his hand. "Dance with me." She said. The warlock shook his head, feeling unsure.

"I don't know, Arella." He said. She frowned, pouting in a way that made him feel almost sad for rejecting her.

"But it's a club! You can't just mope for the rest of your life, Bane. Live a little, or are you not the High Warlock of Brooklyn?" she goaded him. Magnus frowned, but let her pull him onto the floor. Jace, Clary, Isabelle and Simon were all hanging by the edge of the floor, watching Arella. She nodded to them; she had to keep an eye out for Sebastian and alert them if she did see him. All she had to do was trust her instincts, she would know when the angel-killer was near. That, and the fact that his white hair would stand out like a sore thumb, even here. As she and Magnus weaved deeper into the crowd he reluctantly put his hands on her hips as they imitated the other couples around them, dancing together in a way that made him shiver pleasantly. The odd nostalgia was really hitting him now, jolts of electricity shooting through him every time he saw her red eyes gazing at him through the darkness. Arella kept looking around, but it seemed that Sebastian had yet to arrive. That was fine with her. A few stolen moments with the lovesick warlock were better than none at all. Closing her eyes she turned, her head on Magnus' shoulder, and pretended that everything was like it used to be. That after this, they would go back to his house and curl up together, her hands on his chest and his lips pressed to her forehead. After a moment someone bumped her and she jerked back to reality.

"I'm thirsty." She said, indicating the bar. "Want anything?" she asked. Magnus shook his head and she shrugged. "Alright. I'll be back in a sec. Do whatever you want." Magnus watched as she weaved away, dodging a very drunk vampire who tried to grab her rear end but missed by a mile and realized that, had the vampire succeeded, he would have been rather upset. Before he had time to collect his thoughts, he felt someone slide against him from behind. It was a girl, as strangely beautiful as Arella was, eyes glowing reddish orange in the half-light.

"Hi." She said, but Magnus could hear the low growl in her voice. This girl was a demon, and not just any demon. The last thing he needed was to be dealing with a pure-bred succubus; they were terribly hard to get rid of. He ignored her, throwing a half-hearted wink at a young werewolf dancing nearby, but he ignored the gesture. The succubus inched closer, wrapped around him, eyes trained on his neck. Magnus stiffened; what of she was looking for blood. As the girl moved in and he started to push her away, there was a loud snarl from behind him and they both whirled. Arella was standing there, eyes aflame, glaring at the young succubus. The demon girl paled, eyes wide.

"Y… Your Highness!" she gasped, dropping to one knee in a deep bow. "Forgive me, I did not realize… Is he yours?" Arella smiled a bit, showing wicked fangs.

"No, lucky for you. Had he been, I would be significantly more irritated. But I recommend other prizes; preferably ones that aren't taken and aren't covered in the obvious scent of another of our kind." She said. The young succubus stood, eyes averted and nodded.

"Forgive me, Princess." She said before vanishing amongst the crowds. Arella sighed.

"This is why I don't associate with my kind anymore." She said, but Magnus hardly heard her. He was staring at her like he had never seen her before. She smirked at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, staring into his green eyes with the intensity that he had so missed. "Took you long enough, Bane." She said, and in an instant he was kissing her, lips pressed to hers, hands at her lower back.

"Kimadante…" he said breathlessly as he pulled away, finally understanding. "You haven't aged a day." She smiled.

"Two hundred and fifty years is a long time. I'm flattered you can say that." She could see Isabelle staring at them from the side of the room, mouth open, but she couldn't care less. All could be explained later, fully. Magnus leaned in to kiss her again, but she pressed a finger to his lips, eyes fixated on the door. A boy had appeared, his hair white and eyes menacing, and Arella knew instantly that this was Sebastian. She looked to Isabelle and Jace, nodding and pointing discreetly. They nodded, and she saw Jace draw a blade from inside his pocket. As Sebastian advanced across the dance floor, they slipped into the fray, trailing silently behind him.

"Kimadante, maybe we-"

"My name is Arella, Magnus." She said firmly. "I changed it after… After you know…" she turned away, looking sad and remorseful. He rested a hand on her cheek.

"We can discuss it later." He said, his eyes trained on Sebastian's form. The boy was moving faster now, heading for the center of the dance floor, very close to them, and Magnus drew Arella closer, wanting to keep her out of harm's way. She laughed, pushing him back.

"Magnus, please. When have I ever needed protecting?" she asked. The warlock opened his mouth, but all that came out was a scream as the blade pierced Arella's side, her gold-flecked ichor spattering onto Sebastian's shirt as he gripped her by the hair, smirking.

"Looks to me like you need it right now." He hissed.

Jace leapt for Sebastian, seraph blade gleaming, and chaos broke out in the club. Downworlders began to flee, others defended themselves in a flurry of teeth and claws. But Magnus leapt for Arella, pulling her off the dance floor and out of the path of a rampaging werewolf. He set to work instantly, his fingers finding the wound and sending his energy into it. Arella twitched and moaned, her eyes fluttering.

"Don't talk." He said when she opened her mouth. "Don't talk, don't move. Just breathe." She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. The battle was still raging on the floor, Jace, Isabelle and Clary all working desperately to catch Sebastian. But it was in vain. Sebastian, twisting through the air, slashed at Isabelle and bolted out the door.

"Damnit!" Jace shouted, starting after him. But Clary had caught sight of Arella and was rushing to her, terrified.

"Magnus, is she going to be alright?" she asked, dropping down next to the warlock and resting a hand on Arella's. Magnus nodded; it would take almost everything he had, but he could do it. Already, a sheen of sweat covered his face, but the deepest parts of the wound were already stitching back together. Arella's color was coming back, her breathing evening out, but the warlock still wasn't done. As her skin resealed, he slumped to the side, panting heavily but confident that Arella would be just fine. As if to prove his point, she sat up, holding her side but fully healed. She reached out to Magnus, grasping his arm and holding him upright.

"Help me." She said, and Clary put her arms around his middle, supporting him as Arella helped him into a standing position.

"I'm fine. You can let go…" Magnus said, but when they did he wobbled dangerously and leaned against Clary for support.

"We lost him." Jace said, walking over to them with Isabelle looking crestfallen behind him. "He got up into the street, and by the time we got there he was gone." Clary swore under her breath, then caught sight of Isabelle's bleeding hand.

"What happened?" she asked. Isabelle shrugged.

"He got me. But it's just a cut." She said. But Jace shook his head.

"That was a demonic blade he was using. An _iratze_ isn't going to heal that." Isabelle's frown deepened, but Arella moved over to her, taking her injured hand and examining it.

"What are you doing?" Isabelle asked.

"I need your blade." Arella said, closing her eyes and willing herself to be calm. The black faded from her wings, like the color was dripping from them, and within moments they were white again.

"How did you do that?" Clary asked as Isabelle handed her seraph blade to Arella.

"Sometimes I can suppress it, if I try hard enough." She replied, pressing the blade to her palm and swiftly making a deep cut. Black-flecked golden ichor dripped down her arm, and she pressed her sticky palm to Isabelle's injured hand. Isabelle grimaced; it felt like she had molten glass burning her skin, but after a moment the pain faded and Arella withdrew. Isabelle's hand looked flawless, as if it had never been cut.

"There. It might be a bit tender for a few hours, because the healing needs to finish on the inside, but at least it won't be days with a bandage and weeks without that hand." She said, smiling before directing her attention back to Magnus. The warlock still looked decidedly dizzy, his eyes closed and his breathing coming fast and hard. He had overexerted himself with that healing; it too had been made by Sebastian's blade, and it had taken absurd amounts of energy to banish the residual demonic energies before he could even begin to heal it.

"Let's get him to the car. It's still waiting for us outside." Jace said, noticing Magnus' condition and throwing the his arm over his shoulder. "Come on." He started towards the stairs, Magnus almost dragging behind him as he climbed. Arella kept a close eye on Isabelle, but she didn't seem to be having any adverse reaction to the healing, which was good. On occasion, when she had healed a fellow Succubus, the demon had been burned by what she could only assume was heavenly fire, triggered by her blood, but her worries were unfounded. Isabelle was a Shadowhunter; Arella needed not worry. When they reached the street Jace bundled Magnus into the car, laying him out on one set of seats while the others all bunched together on the remaining ones. Arella, who was the last into the car, gingerly lifted the warlock's head and laid him back down on her lap. He was calmer now, his eyes closed and his body less tense. Arella smiled; he was asleep, which she supposed was a good thing. Better to have him sleep it off now, while he was safe.

"It's like he knew we were there." Clary said. "And he knew to go straight for Arella. How?" Jace shrugged, but Arella shook her head.

"I think he saw me signal you. I was a bit too obvious." She said apologetically. "What happens now?" Clary shrugged, but Jace turned to Isabelle, face tight.

"He reeked of demons. And what little information we have proves that he's been summoning an unusual amount of demons, binding them into contract. We know he has a warlock helping him." Arella frowned; it had been difficult to concentrate on the boy with a knife in her side, but Jace had a point. The demonic energy clinging to Sebastian had been almost overwhelming, even for her.

"He's forming an army." Arella said, and the rest of them looked to her. "It's the only thing that makes sense. One doesn't just summon up demons for fun, you know." Clary nodded thoughtfully; it did make sense. Sebastian had made his position with the Clave perfectly clear with that pair of Angel wings in the library; could he be meaning to attack Idris again?

"We have to tell the Clave." She said, startling everyone. "He got away, and he's too smart to come back know that he knows we're looking for him." The others agreed and fell silent, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Arella quietly stroked Magnus' hair, hoping that when he woke up he would be totally recovered. But what would happen now? He knew who she was now, but would he accept her like he had before? The warlock had been half-drunk from the alcohol even before they got to the Underground, and she couldn't help but wonder if the kiss had been a product of that alone. She sighed, resting her head against the plush velvet of the seat and let the rocking of the limousine carry her to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello! Sorry for the delay, I was away in Washinton DC on a trip. But I am back now, and I intend to continue posting. Thank you so much for reading my story, but I really, really need your reviews! I want to know what my readers are thinking! I'll give you virtual cake for reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but Arella. She is mine.**

Chapter 8

_The sun was white, burning everything in its path as it rose. Arella stood in a barren field, surrounded by black flames that licked at her skin but did not burn. She could see others moving in the distance, all dark and shadowy behind the fire that forever raged. She felt arms wrap around her and turned; it was Magnus, his green eyes flaring._

_"Where are we?" Arella asked. He smiled, pressing his lips to her cheek._

_"You know." Was his only reply. A figure stood before them, tall and impressive, with black hair like the flames and red eyes._

_"Kimadantes." The figure said. Arella pulled back, Magnus behind her, but she could not escape. The flames walled her in, and she knew Magnus would not be able to pass safely. As the warlock rested his hand on her hip, she could feel something cold and metallic pressing into her skin. She looked down; a seraph blade was hung at her side, it's hilt embroidered gold and adamas silver. The Queen of Hell drew ever closer, eyes fixed greedily on Magnus. Without hesitation Arella drew the blade, the metal glinting in the harsh sunlight. Magnus held her tighter as she held the sword in front of her, white wings bursting from her back as she called out the blade's name._

_"RAZIEL!"_

Arella woke with a start, her wings pressed to the back of the chair where she had been sitting. They must have broken free while she was asleep, spurred forward by the content of the dream. It had seemed to real, the weight of the sword in her hand, the burst of heavenly fire as the blade unsheathed. But it was impossible; seraph blades were not named after her father. To do so was considered blasphemy by the Shadowhunters, like taking God's name in vain. Not that she was in danger of that. The Downworlder blood in her veins prevented her from uttering most forms of the holy name, save for the one Michael had given to her as a gift and a prayer.

"Adonai." She whispered, smiling. One good thing about not having overbearing parents, or rather, not having any _real_ parents at all. She was able to choose her own faith, and demon or not she needed something to believe in. The Angels didn't offer much of a foundation anyway. Yawning she stood, looking around the dark room. They had returned to the Institute late, and Jace had hauled Magnus off to his room to let him sleep. Isabelle had roused her and led her to the living room, where she had collapsed into a chair and fallen asleep… And had that peculiar dream. She was worried; dreams were never wrong. And this one combined with the nightmare of a few days ago frightened her. What if it all came true; if Magnus was marked by the Queen and she was to fight in the name of her father? There was no doubt that Raziel would refuse her, kill her the moment he saw her or she awakened the sword in his name. Maybe, for once, the dream was just that, a dream. Feeling anxious, Arella made her way down the hall and slipped quietly down the stairs to the weapons room. Her unfinished bow lay on the workbench where she had left it, and the adamas blades set in sand were totally hardened. She dusted one off and took up the stone she had used to polish the knife, setting to rubbing each piece of metal to a flawless sheen. The work was mindless, repetitive, and just what Arella needed. In a little less than an hour, all of the blades were polished and honed to a razor edge, glistening in the dim light of the fire. Arella lifted the bow before her, examining the woodwork and marking the edges with a red-hot steel spike, gouging out the wood and wedging the blades inside. A bit of wood glue sealed it, though it wasn't exactly a traditional method. But something told her that she would be in need of a weapon, and the bows that the Shadowhunters used wouldn't do her any good. Their bow strings, on the other hand, would do just fine, and Arella monopolized one from a bow hanging on the rack. The fit was perfect, and she pulled on it experimentally, testing the draw strength. The bow bent but didn't snap, and she smiled. As she reached for a stele, she heard footsteps behind her and turned. Magnus was standing in the doorway, staring at her.

"Oh." She said, putting the bow down. "How are you feeling?" she asked. The warlock shrugged.

"Tired, but I can't sleep anymore. I didn't expect anyone to be down here at this hour." He didn't look as pleased as he had before, and there was something like sadness in his eyes. "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway." Arella stiffened; she knew exactly what was coming.

"I didn't have a choice." She said. Magnus frowned at her. "When I left. I didn't have a choice." Her voice was flat, expressionless. He bit his lip, eyes hard.

"No choice?" He repeated. "I looked for you for fifty years, Kimadante. Fifty years before I gave up and decided that you were dead. _Dead_." Arella snarled.

"My name is Arella." She said firmly. "And I am sorry for what you went through." Magnus laughed, a cold chuckle.

"And I suppose you had fun." He said, and Arella jerked back like she had been punched in the stomach. It _felt_ like she had been punched.

"Fun?" she said, eyes flaring, and Magnus instantly knew that he had said the wrong thing. "I was on the run from _my father_ for the next two hundred years! If it hadn't been for the Angel Michael, I would have died days after I left you. Do you think I wanted to leave? If I hadn't, neither of us would be alive!" she spat, advancing towards him. Magnus put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Arella stopped feet away from him, tears in her eyes. "Do you think I left you because I didn't _love_ you anymore?" her voice cracked.

"Kimad- Arella." He said, reaching for her, but she brushed him off.

"I knew it was just the alcohol." She said. "Well, I'm sorry for coming back."

"Arella, please… I didn't mean that." The warlock said, gingerly taking her hand. "I just… I didn't know what to think. I woke up and you were gone, no note, nothing. I had no idea what happened… I thought it was something I did." She tried not to look at him, but his tone was so pleading… "After that I searched for you, and I never found anything. Not a trace. Even a tracking spell came up empty… Where did you go?" Magnus was watching her, begging for an answer. After a minute, she relented.

"I went with Michael. He took me to… To the home of the Angels. I guess you could call it heaven, but it's so much more beautiful than that." She said. "But I never belonged there. Michael kept me safe for sixty years and then I had to leave. Raziel and the others pushed me away. So I spent the next two centuries on the run, and that's how I ended up here." She dropped her arm to her side, pushing Magnus' hand away. "Look. I know you're in love with Alec." He opened his mouth but she held up a hand, silencing him. "And… I won't take you away from him. I guess I just wished… But wishing only wounds the heart." Uttering the proverb her father had once taught her she slipped away, out of the weapons room and ran down the hall. So, Magnus had only kissed her because he had been drunk. She should have known as much. How could she have expected him to still feel the same for her after two hundred and fifty years? He had undoubtedly been with other people, whereas she… That kiss tonight had been the first in over two centuries. She could hear Magnus following her, but she rushed to the window, intent on leaping into the air and flying until she forgot who and where she was, until there was nothing but the wind and the clouds to keep her company.

"Arella!" Magnus grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the window and into his arms.

"Let go." She said, expression stony. But the warlock ignored her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and making an indignant sort of whining sound. "I said let go, Magnus." She said, wiggling and trying to escape his grip.

"No." he said, sounding rather like a five year old who was refusing to leave the park or give up his favorite toy. Arella growled, turning and hissing, displaying her fangs, but still Magnus refused to release her. What was it going to take for this stupid warlock to let go?

"Magnus…" she said, exasperated.

"What?" he grumbled stubbornly. Arella groaned loudly, rolling her eyes and whining.

"Why? You should… You should go after someone you actually…" she couldn't bring herself to say it, or the tears would start falling again. The sound of footsteps startled them both, and they turned, Magnus still with his arms around her, trapping her arms. It was Jace, who was standing there, naked to the waist and rubbing his eyes.

"What the hell are you two doing?" he asked, taking in their awkward position.

"Magnus won't let me go." Arella said, trying not to sound as upset as she was.

"Well, I fail to see how that is a problem." Jace said, crossing his arms. "You two were doing just fine at the Underground, shouldn't you _want_ to be in his arms?" Arella flushed and struggled harder.

"He was just drunk! It's not like he would do it again unless I pumped him full of booze." She said indignantly. Suddenly, the arms restraining her were gone, and Magnus was looking at her in shock.

"Wait… You think I… Arella-"and with that he was kissing her again, mouth hard against hers, his hands on her back pulling her closer. Arella's hands were pressed to his chest, pushing him away, but she quickly stopped fighting, giving in as the warlock brought one hand up to the back of her neck. When he pulled away she was breathless, and Jace was grinning at them.

"See? Isn't that better? Now… I'm going to bed." He said, turning on his heel. Arella heard the door slam before looking up at Magnus, blushing.

"But…" she stuttered, not quite sure what she was supposed to say.

"Arella, you thought I only did that because I was drunk? True, I was a little tipsy, but no matter what…" he seemed at a loss for words. "I looked for you for fifty years, Arella." His emerald eyes were shining as he rested a hand against her cheek. "I never _stopped_ loving you. But I lost hope of ever finding you; can you ever forgive me for that?" She nodded, pressing her forehead to his chest.

"Of course I can. You don't even have to ask that, Magnus." She said. He lifted her into his arms, smiling fit to burst as he sat her down on the couch, kissing her again. Arella whimpered, knotting her fingers into his hair. When he ran a hand down her side she shuddered and he laughed.

"It's like your fist kiss all over again." He joked, nuzzling her cheek.

"Well… Two hundred and fifty years will do that do you." She said. Magnus froze, slowly lifting his head.

"Are you serious?" he asked, going red in the face. She nodded bashfully. He felt a sudden warmth in his heart, accompanied by a sense of guilt. She hadn't kissed or touched anyone else but him since then, whereas he… No. Not now. Magnus mentally shook himself; he shouldn't be feeling guilty now. Arella kissed him on the cheek, smiling up at him. Suddenly, Magnus stood and scooped her into his arms, making his way towards his room.

"Magnus, wait-" she began, but he silenced her with a kiss.

"Relax, Arella." He said, depositing her on the bed. "Would you stay with me? It'll help me sleep." He said. Arella smiled.

"Of course." She replied as Magnus curled up next to her, one arm around her. She had been afraid that he would ask for… Something else, something she was afraid to give again lest she would have to leave him like last time. Magnus pressed his lips to her cheek before resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes. With the sound of Arella breathing quietly beside him, he fell into a sleep that was, for the first time since Alec left, not filled with nightmares and visions of blackness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my readers! Once again, thank you for taking the time to read this! Pretty please REVIEW! I need your input in order to know what to do next! I look forward to hearing from you!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own TMI. I only own Arella.**

Chapter 9

The next morning dawned misty and clouded, rain pattering softly against the windows of the Institute. Magnus awoke, blinking in the mild light that was peering through the curtains. For a moment, he forgot where he was, but when he turned he saw Arella, her long hair fanned against the pillow, lips parted as she breathed quietly in her sleep. He smiled, kissing her cheek and slipping out of bed, being careful not to wake her. He recalled how late she liked to sleep; it seemed that had not changed. Arella rolled over, mumbling, and for a moment Magnus thought that his movements had woken her, but her eyes remained closed and after a minute she fell still again. Still grinning he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and turning on the shower with a quick wave of his hand. His reflection in the mirror was unkempt with sleep, his hair tousled and the red imprint of the seam of a pillow on his left cheek. He hadn't slept as well as he had last night in days, and the dark rings underneath his eyes were beginning to fade. The mirror was starting to steam up, so he stripped off his flannel pajama pants and stepped under the hot spray, working his fingers through the knots in his hair. The emotions he had been suppressing and had managed to ignore all through the night were welling up in his chest; he felt a little guilty. Alec had left not even a week ago, and he was already having feelings for someone else. He knew what others would say; that he had moved on too quickly, that he had obviously never loved Alec at all, but that wasn't true. But he had left, of his own accord, leaving Magnus behind. So, in a way, didn't Magnus have a right to seek others out? It was pure luck that Arella had been the one he found. Fifty years of searching had turned up empty, and all of a sudden she reappears. The warlock had never had much patience for people who believed in destiny or fate, but now he began to wonder if it was more than a mere coincidence that had brought her here that night. Sighing, he turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist and shaking out his hair. Of course, he could just use magic, but having the warm droplets clinging to his skin was pleasant, especially on such a dreary morning.

Out in the bedroom, Arella woke to find the other side of the bed empty. For a moment she was confused, but then she heard the shower running and smiled. Of course Magnus was up early; it always took him ages to get all of that product into his hair. She rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling and pulling the blankets up to her chin. It was cold in the room, the rainy atmosphere seeping into the room and spreading a damp sort of chill over everything. Arella closed her eyes, pressing her face back into the pillow and trying to drift back off to sleep. It was too early to be awake, in her opinion, and a quick glance at the clock next to the bed proved that. Magnus had gotten up to shower at eight in the morning. Ungodly. She groaned, pulling a second pillow over her head and trying to drown out the roar of the hairdryer now emanating from the bathroom. She was going to kill that warlock for waking her up like this. And she had been having a wonderful dream, too. Eyes screwed shut, she willed for sleep to overtake her and carry her off for a few more hours, but just as she began to relax the bathroom door opened.

"Magnus!" she whined, sitting up and angrily blowing her hair out of her face. He was standing in the doorway, hair clean and dry, dressed back in his pajamas.

"Yes?" he replied with a smile. Arella grumbled something about needing her beauty sleep, but Magnus walked over to her and pressed his index finger to the tip of her nose. "You certainly don't need beauty sleep. You look fantastic all the time, even with your hair like that." He gestured to her tangled locks and she whined, trying to smooth them out with her hands.

"You're making fun of me." She said indignantly.

"No, no I'm not." He said, slipping back under the blankets and putting an arm around her waist. "I'm being completely serious." Arella turned her back to him, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. This was even better than she had remembered, their never-ending banter, his brilliant smile. Magnus prodded her in the side and she squeaked, wriggling away from him and nearly falling off the bed.

"Don't!" she said, but Magnus pounced, tickling at her sides and stomach until she feared she might vomit from laughing so hard.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." He said when her foot nearly connected with his face. He was laughing too, green eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Clary peered inside.

"Uh… Hi." She said sheepishly. "Uhm, Jace says to please be quiet. Sorry!" She shrugged, but then Jace shouted from the other room.

"That's not what I said! I said to tell them to keep it down or I'm coming in there!" Arella blushed, but Magnus just waved Clary away.

"I get the message. No more laughing." He said. Clary smiled and walked away, and the warlock closed the door with a snap of his fingers. Arella nuzzled up to his side, glad for the warmth he provided in the cold room. She wished that someone would turn on the heat, but then it would be too warm for Magnus, and Jace liked it colder anyway.

"I'm going back to sleep." She said. Magnus sighed, but rested his head against the pillows, kissing her forehead.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked. She nodded, eyes already drifting shut. "Then I will." And he did, laying beside the sleeping girl even as the sky brightened, even as he could hear the others stirring and moving about in the main hall. He had no desire to move; all he wanted was Arella.

Jace, Clary, Isabelle and Simon were sprawled out in the living room, watching TV and complaining about the dismal weather.

"How can those two sleep so late?" Isabelle asked, gesturing in the direction of Magnus' room. Jace shrugged.

"I wish I was still asleep." He said with a yawn. Simon frowned as he stretched, lifting his arms above his head.

"The just get back into bed." He said, feeling a little irritated. Like Jace had a right to talk about a lack of sleep. He was still having difficulty sleeping at night, and usually ended up napping during the day.

"I can't. Believe me, I tried." Jace replied with another huge yawn. Isabelle mimicked him, unable to stop herself.

"What are you yawning for? You slept through the night." Simon said. Isabelle frowned at him.

"So? It's contagious." She said in justification. Simon opened his mouth to argue again, but at that moment they heard the Institute's main door open. Jace jumped to his feet, tensed and ready for a fight, but within moments Maryse Lightwood appeared around the corner, dressed in full gear and a seraph blade clutched in her hand.

"Mom!" Isabelle said, bolting to her feet. But Maryse gestured for her to sit down as her husband, Robert Lightwood appeared behind her. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Idris." Maryse looked nervous, her lips pressed tightly together.

"We came as soon as we can. We need to talk, to all of you." Robert said. As he spoke, three more Shadowhunters entered, though their faces were unknown to the group. All of them were prepared for battle, and all were armed to the teeth with angelic swords.

"What's going on?" Jace asked, leaning forward in his seat. Maryse stepped forward and addressed all of them.

"We know that it is here." She said. "The demon girl." Clary went pale. "If you assist us in its capture, the Clave will show lenience, and you will not be punished for harboring a demon." None of them spoke; how had the Clave heard about Arella? Unless…

"Alec." Isabelle said, hands clenching into fists.

"You're brother told us that someone else was here, at the Institute. Fortunately, he knew not what she was, and the Clave simply thanked him for the information." One of the unfamiliar Shadowhunters said in a gruff voice. "We only want the demon. Cooperation will serve you well." He said. Clary stood, opening her mouth to protest, but at that moment Magnus' bedroom door opened and the warlock appeared, naked to the waist and yawning. He saw the Shadowhunters and froze, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Why is he still here?" Maryse asked, pointing to Magnus with the tip of her sword. "If he's waiting for Alec, he's not-"

"Magnus?" his expression turned to one of pure terror as Arella peered out from behind him, rubbing her eyes sleepily and still dressed in her tank top and shorts. She noticed the Nephilim as they noticed her, and her eyes widened in fear. Maryse started towards her, seraph blade outstretched.

"No!" Magnus pushed Arella behind him, putting himself between her and the Shadowhunters.

"Move, warlock. Or I will cut you down." Maryse said, but Magnus didn't budge.

"I won't let you hurt her." He said, blue sparks beginning to dance at his fingertips.

"You would fight the Clave?" Robert Lightwood said coldly, moving to stand next to his wife. Magnus nodded, green eyes flashing.

"Magnus, don't!" Arella wrapped her arms around his waist, but Maryse brought the sword down, slashing into Magnus' chest and across Arella's hand. The warlock cried out, gripping at her hand as the holy metal seared his chest and golden ichor dripped from Arella's wrist, mingling with his blood. Maryse jerked back, staring at the golden liquid, the other Shadowhunters watching as well.

"What is this?" She demanded. Arella pulled Magnus back and stepped out, eyes defiant and chin held high.

"I am Arella, Daughter of the Angel Raziel and Queen of Hell, Nephet, otherwise known as Karathas." She said.

"That's a lie!" The deep-voiced Shadowhunter shouted, drawing his blade. "You're a demon, and your blood is an illusion!" and with that he leapt forward, sword directed at her throat. But Arella was faster, drawing the seraph blade she had slipped into the waistband of her shorts and naming it, calling it to her service.

"_Ithuriel!"_ The blade burst from its sheath, blazing as she deflected the blow with a metallic clang. Magnus recognized the blade; it had been tucked in Alec's drawer, probably a spare. But Arella had named it, and now it glowed with life. Clary's heart jumped to her throat when she heard the name; it was the angel that Valentine had imprisoned, that she and Jace had freed. The Shadowhunters, on the other hand, were watching, looking terrified and disturbed.

"Downworlders and demons cannot wield seraph blades, can they?" Arella asked, voice forceful and loud. Magnus watched, entranced, one hand pressed to the wound on his chest. He had only ever known Kimadante the Princess of Hell, but here was Arella, the Daughter of Raziel. The spell of silence broke and the Shadowhunter swung again. Arella leapt back, wings bursting into being as she blocked again, pinning the man's sword to the floor. "I do not wish to fight you. You are born from the blood of my father; my blood." She said, looking to the Lightwoods. "Contrary to what the Clave believes, I have committed no crime, nor have I broken the Law. Raziel wishes me dead because I am a reminder of what he did, of my mother. Yet he seems to forget that I am his only child. Leave me in peace." The Shadowhunter she had clashed with drew back, afraid as the runes inked on her chest began to shimmer and wave like the ones on her father's skin.

"We cannot leave. Our orders are to kill you." Robert said. "I will not lose my place with the Clave again." Arella dropped into a crouch, blade waving before her eyes.

"As you wish, Nephilim. But I do _not_ intend to lose today." Suddenly, one of the Shadowhunters grabbed Magnus by the arm and dragged him upright. The one she had fought with pressed his knife to the warlock's throat.

"Come quietly, or I kill the Downworlder." He said. Maryse moved to protest, as did Robert, but the Shadowhunters glared at them. "We need the girl. A war is coming, and her mother would find her a great asset." Arella wasn't listening, she was frozen, staring at Magnus, eyes wide.

"Run." He said, even as the blade drew blood from his throat.

"No." she said firmly, eyes flashing bright red. "Release him. Or I'll show you the demon you came here to find." The others were trying to get through, but the one remaining Shadowhunter was holding them back, using the threat of Magnus' death to sway them as well. There was nothing they could do without him getting hurt.

"Arella, no!" Isabelle shouted, but the girl's wings were flaring, black at the tips, yet her blood remained gold as it flowed from a cut on her cheek.

"I will _kill_ you." She snarled, wings seeming to glow as she crouched. The seraph blade in her hand flared, and then white fire burst along the blade, licking over the metal.

"Heavenly fire…" Maryse said, stepping back. The Shadowhunter with the blade pressed to Magnus' throat jerked his hand and gouged a jagged cut in his skin. The warlock shouted, going limp as blood poured down his neck, staining his chest. Arella cried out and leapt with inhuman speed, knocking the first Shadowhunter down and growling in his face before taking out the one holding Magnus.

"Stay with me!" She shouted, gathering Magnus into her arms and cradling his head in her hands. Jace, Clary and Isabelle jumped in, holding back the one conscious Shadowhunter as Arella pressed her lips to his.

"I'm fine." He said weakly with a slight smile. Blue sparks were already dancing around his injuries, but Arella wiped some golden blood off of her cheek and dripping it onto the wounds, which sealed instantly. As the Shadowhunters began to stir, Maryse looked to her daughter.

"Isabelle, what is this girl?" she asked. Isabelle stared at her mother; if she said the wrong thing, Arella would still be killed. But Maryse would know if she wasn't telling the truth.

"She's an Angel. And she means you and the Clave no harm." She replied evenly. Robert Lightwood nodded, taking in Arella's white wings and the seraph blade still searing with heavenly fire.

"We were told to come, and kill the demon that we found." He said, addressing the other Shadowhunters. "But it seems there is no demon here. You have our leave to go." The one remaining helped his comrades to their feet and swiftly left, fleeing from Arella and the Lightwoods.

"They said a war was coming." Arella interjected, turning to Maryse and Robert. "Is there to be?" Somberly, Maryse nodded.

"Yes. Demons are gathering around the borders of Idris; the wards cannot hold them off for much longer. There are even more than at the battle with Valentine. The Clave is preparing to fight." Magnus sat up, leaning against Arella and looking to Jace and the others.

"If you're fighting, then so am I." she said, earning surprised looks from all of them. "I fight in the name of my father, not my mother." Maryse opened her mouth to protest, but Magnus smirked.

"Please. Do you really think you can stop her?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again! So, I have some good news! I have actually finished with this story, but I think I will continue posting at this rate. I will be going on vacation soon, so maybe I will try to have some more up. Anyway, I have a correction to make that I REALLY should have noticed sooner. In Chapter One ( I know, I know...) I said that Arella was 200 years old. She is 400. I hit the '2' instead of the '4' and I did not catch the mistake. So I apologize for any confusion.**

**I do NOT own the Mortal Instruments. I only own Arella. She's my girl. :3**

Chapter 10

Maryse and Robert had refused to leave after the whole ordeal, insisting that they remain. Naturally, they both seemed against the idea of letting Isabelle, Jace and Clary join them, but the resulting argument culminated in a victory for the younger Shadowhunters. Since then, Jace and Clary had busied themselves down in the Training Room, and Arella could hear the clash of their swords from the floor above. Isabelle was seated in the living room, talking with her mother and father animatedly, though her expression was fierce. As for Magnus, he was leafing through a book of spells, occasional flames or sparks bursting from the tips of his fingers as he amused himself. But Arella was pacing, wings twitching agitatedly as she pondered the upcoming battle. Her dreams about the Queen of Hell scrolled through her mind like movie film, and she relived every detail of Magnus' death and the drawing of the seraph blade over and over again. Was it all to come to pass, or not? The Queen of Hell would surely be there, bloodlust motivating her to action, and Arella wasn't looking forward to seeing her mother for the first time in two centuries.

"Can you _stop_ doing that?" Isabelle said after Arella had rounded the room at least five times. "You're making me anxious."

"I'm sorry." Arella said, forcing herself onto the couch and fighting the urge to move, thought it seemed impossible for her to keep her wings still. "There's just a lot to think about." Magnus closed the book, stowing it away in his room before returning to sit next to Arella, throwing one arm about her shoulders.

"Why so serious?" he said, suppressing a giggle as she glared at him.

"Is now really the time for morose movie references?" she said wearily. Magnus shrugged, groaning as Chairman Meow started pawing at his leg.

"I already fed you!" he said, irritated, but Arella picked the kitten up and allowed him to bat at her hair. "Arella, what's worrying you?" The warlock pressed his lips to her cheek, staring at her with concern. Arella didn't answer, watching as Chairman Meow chewed on the tip of her index finger. He prodded her and she jumped, looking sheepish. Maryse was watching them, eyes cold.

"Moved on already, have you?" she said, and Arella knew that she was angry for her son's sake, not her own. Magnus clenched his fists and Arella glared.

"Don't make it sound like that." She said. "At least he isn't the one who just left without-"

"Don't start with her." Isabelle said. "We'll all never hear the end of it." Arella bit her lip but kept silent, holding in everything she wanted to say. It was hard, but she managed. Magnus, on the other hand, was turned towards the window, and she could see the tears welling up in his eyes, the guilt pouring from him. Of course he had been feeling guilty about all of this; hadn't she at first?

"Stop it." She said, pulling him into an embrace. "Don't torment yourself." Magnus sighed before giving in, his head resting on her shoulder.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and she growled at him playfully.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. But you can't mope, not now. You can have moping time _after_ we've gone out and killed a few thousand demons." Though she was smiling, Magnus could tell that she meant it. Isabelle rolled her eyes, striking up a conversation again with her mother before Maryse said something else to the warlock. There was a moment of strange silence, and then Arella stood, taking Magnus' hand and dragging him from the room. She was frustrated, and frustration warranted something special.

"Where are we going?" he said as she pulled him down the steps and out into the Training Room. Clary and Jace were still going strong, grappling now with their fists and feet instead of swords. Both looked up when Arella entered, the warlock in tow, and grabbed a wooden sword from the rack near the door.

"Fight me." She said, tossing the faux weapon to Magnus, who caught it and stared at her, perplexed.

"Arella, I fight with magic." He said, watching as she selected her own wooden weapon and faced him.

"I don't care. What if someone comes right at you? There will be thousands of demons, maybe even some Princes or Queens. And I might not be able to cover you all the time." She shuddered. "If my mother is there, it'll take everything I have to kill her." Clary suddenly pulled away from the fight with Jace, eyes wide and astonished as she turned to Arella.

"You would kill your _mother_?" she said. Arella stared back, face hard.

"Yes. I would." She said flatly, whirling about and swinging the blade towards Magnus. He squeaked in surprise, quickly blocking her and jumping back. Arella smiled, winking at him as he sunk into a crouch, green eyes twinkling.

"Don't _do_ that when I'm not ready!" he said, glaring at her.

"The demons won't care if you're ready or not. They'll attack the moment they see you." Arella said, dodging around him and throwing the wooden sword aside. "They'll come at you with their teeth and claws-" and she pounced, knocking him back and pressing her lips to his throat.

"Arella!" he said, but she cut him off, sitting on his chest and sighing in defeat. " Fine. I can't fight you for real anyway… I might hurt you." She smiled, leaning down and kissing him gently.

"I am capable to handling myself, Arella." He said indignantly.

"I know. I am fully confident in your abilities." She said, and Magnus pouted at her.

"Then why did we…" he snarled playfully. "Were you just messing with me?" he asked, and she nodded, earning herself a dirty look from the warlock, who sat up and pinned her to the floor, tickling at her sides. Arella squealed, rolling away and coming up in a crouch.

"You know I _hate_ that!" she said, but Magnus only shrugged and came after her again, an evil grin on his face.

"And I hate it when my girlfriends come at me with swords, even if they're non-lethal." He joked. Arella froze and he bowled her over, grinning as he took in her bright red face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm your… Your…" she stuttered for a minute or two as Magnus laughed above her.

"Is that a problem?" he managed, still snickering. Jace had to suppress a chuckle as Arella threw her arms around Magnus' neck, capturing his lips and pulling him to the ground.

"No! Not at all!" she said with an excited laugh. There were tears in her eyes.

"Arella…" he said, pressing a hand to her cheek and brushing away her tears. "What is it?" She pushed herself up, smiling fit to burst.

"Nothing… I'm just happy." Clary grabbed Jace's arm and pulled him from the training room, leaving Arella and Magnus alone, for which the warlock was grateful. He hated other people watching him, especially when he was technically asking someone out. Arella rested her head on his shoulder, purring happily as he kissed her forehead. Magnus turned her around so she was facing him, brushing her hair from her eyes.

"Arella… I love you." He said, feeling his own heart give a leap; it had been two hundred and fifty years since he had spoken those words to the girl sitting in front of him now. She flushed and reached for him, pressing her hand to his chest, just above his heart.

"I love you too, Magnus Bane." She said. "I always have." And with that he swept her into his arms, kissing her hard, his hands at her back while hers wound into his hair. Magnus felt the kind of heat in his heart that he hadn't felt for God knows how long as all of the memories flooded back to him; she was warm, and he could feel his heart pounding violently, slamming into his rib cage. His hands trailed down her sides to her hips, pulling her closer and allowing her to press him back onto the matted training floor.

"If we survive this," he panted as they broke apart. "I will follow you to Hell and back." Arella smiled lazily at him, one hand drifting over his chest to his jaw and tracing his cheek.

"Are you sure you would want to go there? It's really hot, you know." She said with a laugh. Magnus kissed her again, catching her surprise and making her gasp.

"For you, anything. I will _never_ lose you again." He whispered, smiling as she flared her wings. She knew how much he loved them; he had often commented on how she looked like an Avenging Angel. A 'sexy' Avenging Angel, as he would say. As expected, he instantly ran a hand along the thick, silky feathers, making her shudder.

"I've missed you." She said, kissing his cheeks and down his neck. Magnus whimpered, resting a hand on the back of her head as she bit down gently, fangs pressed to his skin for an instant before withdrawing. The warlock smiled; she didn't want to hurt him.

"If you want to, you can. It won't bother me." He said. Arella flushed, her wings shivering slightly at the thought.

"Magnus… It isn't just a bite anymore." She said. "It's more of a… Well, a sensual thing, when I'm not hunting." Magnus grinned.

"Yes, I know. And this would Mark me, wouldn't it?" Arella jolted back, shaking her head.

"I couldn't!" she said, aghast. "It's so binding. I would never curse you like that." Magnus blinked at her, shocked and a bit hurt.

"To be with you, forever, you would call that a curse?" he said.

"You wouldn't have a choice." Arella said. "And I won't take that free will from you." Magnus pouted; he understood the gravity and meaning of a Succubus' Mark. But he also knew not to press Arella. What did it matter if they were bound by BloodOath anyway, he still intended to be hers, as he had all those centuries ago.

"Will you at least…?" he asked, gesturing to his neck. Arella flushed again, but Magnus rolled his eyes. "Arella, I _want_ you to." He said. Arella's eyes were trained on his throat; even when she wasn't hungry, the warlock looked so enticing, and the demon hidden within her stirred. Her eyes turned reddish gold, her fangs piercing her lip as they slipped into being. Slowly she drew the tip of her tongue over the hot skin of his neck, a contented purr breaking from within her as she bit down, Magnus' hot blood washing down her throat. He groaned, but the pain he had expected never came. Instead, a wave of ecstasy crashed over him, leaving him light-headed and reeling. Arella was arched against him, wings flexing, her nails digging into his arms as she pulled away, red blood painting her lips and dripping down her chin.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, lifting her hand and wiping her lips. The warlock shook his head, easing into a seated position. He was a bit dizzy, and the wound on his neck was still bleeding a bit, but he could take care of that. Much to his surprise, when he concentrated and blue sparks danced over and sealed the tiny punctures, there were four distinct white scars left behind. For a moment, he wondered if Arella had changed her mind, but this was no Succubus Mark. The few he had seen resembles the Runes that colored the skin of Shadowhunters, and this just liked an old wound.

"Not at all, my love." he said. "I actually found it rather enjoyable; I can see why you do it." Arella leaned against his chest with a sigh as he fiddled with a lock of her hair, feeling utterly happy and content. The door to the Training Room opened and Isabelle walked in, flanked by Jace and Clary.

"Canoodling time is over, you two!" she said. "Did you even train? Or have you been doing the Angel knows what to one another the whole time?" Arella blushed, but Magnus stood, pulling her with him and wrapping his arms around her.

"Don't be silly, my darling Izzy." He said. "Arella and I were involved in something _very_ important before you three busted in." Jace rolled his eyes, but suddenly his nose crinkled.

"I smell blood." He said, gaze flicking to Arella. "You do know if Maryse finds out you drink blood, she won't be happy." Arella frowned, looking slightly upset, but Magnus smiled.

"It was a very willing donation, believe me." He drawled, pressing his lips to Arella's shoulder and smirking when she purred rather loudly and then glared at him, embarrassed.

"Magnus!" she whined, but Isabelle only winked at her.

"Alright, well, get some sleep. We travel to Idris tomorrow. And Arella… You're coming with us. I know you'll love it there." Arella perked up right away, smiling.

"You mean it? Wow… I always wanted to see Idris. It's the one place I haven't been." She said, looking up at Magnus. "Can he come?" she asked.

"Well, watch them try to stop me." He said, and she laughed.

"Yes, the warlock is coming." Maryse had stepped into the room, eyes narrow. "But I don't-"

"Mom, please." Isabelle said. "They'll both behave themselves. What do you think she's going to do, run rampant through the streets, eating children?" Jace suppressed a snicker as Maryse glowered at her and then stalked from the room. The instant she was gone, Arella and Magnus started laughing.

"I just can't see you eating children." The warlock said.

"Oh, you would be surprised. I _love_ eating babies." Arella joked, kissing him on the cheek. Clary laughed and Jace joined in as they all exited into the hall.

"We leave tomorrow. Bright an early." Isabelle said. "If you aren't awake, you will unceremoniously roused by your truly, dumping cold water in your face." Satisfied with the horrified looks of everyone else, she dismissed herself, slipping into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Jace and Clary followed suit, and once again Arella and Magnus were left alone in the hall.

"So, I guess we should-" Arella began, but Magnus placed a hand under her chin and kissed her softly, lovingly.

"Stay with me. I want to fall asleep holding you and wake up the same way." Magnus said. Arella blushed but nodded, allowing him to scoop her into his arms. With a devilish grin he opened the door with a wave of his hand and deposited her on the bed. Arella peeled off her shirt, leaving her in a bandeau and shorts.

"I love you." Magnus said again as he clambered into bed next to her, naked to the waist now and kissing her on the shoulder. Arella smiled, allowing him to put his arms around her waist and pull her under the covers.

"I love you too. More than my own life."


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi! Two chapters up in one night, wow! Then again, I do have plenty of time. So, yeah, enjoy! And please review, please!**

**I do NOT own the Mortal Instruments. Only Arella.**

Chapter 11

Arella was awakened by the feeling of lips on her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. Feeling groggy, she opened her eyes, blinking in the half-light.

"Magnus?" she said, reaching out. Her fingertips came in contact with warm skin, silky hair, and finally a nose.

"Ow… Quit poking." It _was_ Magnus, she recognized his voice. She smiled, blinking and squinting, trying to see in the early morning gloom. His emerald eyes sparkled as she ran her fingers through his hair, leaning in to kiss him.

"Is it time to get up yet?" she mumbled, falling back onto the pillows and smiling.

"Almost. But I figured getting up early was better than having Isabelle make good on her threat and pour water on your head. I thought waking up to me was better than that." He said with a smirk. Arella managed a tired sort of giggle, her eyes half-shut.

"But I'm still sleepy." She said with a rather childish pout. Magnus stretched his body over hers, his bare chest against her stomach making her shiver, eyes widening. His lips found hers, brushing gently before he slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her in, kissing her fiercely. Arella moaned, her hands curled against his chest, pressing her body to him, savoring in the warmth he always produced. After a moment more he retreated, breathless, wanting more but knowing they wouldn't have time.

"Are you awake now?" he asked, and she nodded, the blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck.

"Yes… Very much so." Magnus laughed, trailing the tips of his fingers along her collarbone and down her chest and stomach.

"As much as I would love to remain in bed with you all day, Idris is waiting." He said with a low purr, nipping at her earlobe and chuckling as she jumped. As if to prove his point, the door creaked open and Isabelle peered inside, a cup of water clutched in her hand.

"Damnit." She said when she saw them awake and looking at her. "I was dying to get you, warlock." Disappointed, she closed the door, and Arella burst into laughter. After a moment, she quieted, kissing him on the cheek when she caught sight of his expression.

"Come on." She said. "You know you would have laughed if she had done it to me." Magnus was still frowning, but his expression softened when she kissed along the line of his jaw, running her hands over his chest and down his torso.

"Arella… Don't tempt me, please." He said, resting a hand on her shoulder and looking at her. She smiled, and he could see a flash of the devil underneath her angelic eyes.

"Why not?" she asked, but Magnus answered for her, burying his face in her neck, kissing and biting gently.

"Because…" he said with a slight whine, still kissing her slowly. "It's been two hundred and fifty years. And even for me, that's a long time." Arella laughed, gently lifting his head and brushing her lips to his.

"Well, I hate to be the awful tease, but we need to go. As funny as I thought it would be, I really don't want Isabelle pouring ice cold water on us." She said, rolling out from underneath him and stretching. Magnus smiled, and then imitated her, his back arching, eyes closed.

"You look like a cat when you do that." She said. "It's like you're the human version of Chairman Meow." Magnus grinned, opening one green eye to peer at her.

"I prefer to think of myself as a panther. A sexy, sexy panther." He said, and Arella giggled.

"Fine then. Get up, tiger." She joked, stripping off the bandeau and striding into the bathroom. Magnus made a little noise of surprise as she threw the garment behind her and closed the door. Inside, she turned on the shower and stepped in. The hot water poured over her head and she sighed, shaking out her hair and sighing. Idris. She had only ever heard of Idris from Michael, even he sang praises of the city and the glass towers. She could hear Magnus moving around in the room, presumably putting on his usual makeup and deciding on an outfit. Maybe she should just help him. She grabbed a bottle of Magnus' shampoo; he wouldn't mind if she used it, and it made her hair soft and silky. After she rinsed she clambered out, wrapping a towel around her and opening the door. Just as she suspected. Magnus was standing in front of the bed, clad only in his black silk boxers, examining two outfits that he had laid out.

"Just pick one." She said impatiently, and he turned, face reddening as he took in her state of undress.

"It isn't that easy, love. Especially with you distracting me like that." He said, a look of mock indignation on his face. Arella smirked, peering into the back of the closet. As Isabelle had promised, there was a full set of gear in her size and a seraph blade.

"Well, hurry up. I'll be dressed in a few minutes." She said, slipping into the black pants and examining the shirt. She sighed, using the blade to slash two holes in the back of the shirt before pulling it over her head. Magnus watched as she strapped on the belt and slid the blade into its sheath. He had never seen her dressed like this, and it was distracting him from the ever so important task of selecting which outfit he was to wear. Arella impatiently pushed him aside threw the reddish shirt at him.

"Just wear it. Or Isabelle really will come in here again." She said. Magnus grumbled but decided it wasn't worth arguing about clothing with Arella, especially when she was holding a sword. As he was pulling on the pair of black jeans he had paired with the shirt there was a knock on the door and Jace peered in.

"Isabelle says to hurry up, we're leaving in five minutes. The portal's set up." He said. Arella nodded, sighing as he closed the door.

"Magnus, you ready?" she said, voice shaking a bit. The warlock smiled, slipping on a pair of boots and standing up.

"Are you alright?" he asked, putting his arms around her and pressing his lips to her forehead. Arella shrugged.

"I'm a bit nervous, actually." She admitted. "What if the Clave decides to arrest me anyway? I can't help but think that they won't let me fight." Magnus grumbled something about the Clave being stupid and Arella chuckled.

"They're all bigger idiots than we thought if they refuse the help of an Angel." He said. "_My_ Angel." She flushed, kissing him and nuzzling into his shoulder.

"We should go." She said, clasping his hand and pulling him towards the door. Magnus obliged, following her into the hallway where Clary and Jace were talking with Maryse and Isabelle.

"Arella!" Clary said, turning as they approached. "Are you ready?" Arella nodded, a light smile gracing her features.

"Yes. And very excited, actually." Maryse frowned at her.

"Excited to go to battle with thousands of powerful and blood-thirsty demons?" she said stiffly. Isabelle glared at her, but Arella shook her head.

"No. To see Idris, and Alicante of the Glass Towers. I've never been… But I feel that I will be at home there. It is the city of my father, after all." She said. Magnus kissed the top of her head, looking to Maryse, who was still glaring. Isabelle took her mother's hand and led her down the hall to the library, Clary following and gesturing for Magnus and Arella to do the same. The library was occupied by a large portal, runes etched into the walls opening the door that would lead all of them into the city of Idris. Robert Lightwood was waiting for them, brow furrowed as he noticed Arella with Magnus clinging to her arm. But the Shadowhunter refrained from commenting, turning to the portal and stepping through silently. His wife followed, pulling Isabelle behind her.

"See you on the other side." She said as she vanished. Jace took Clary by the hand, leading her to the portal and stepping through.

"You ready?" Magnus said. Arella nodded, one hand on her seraph blade as she followed the others, one foot in the portal, Magnus right behind her. There was a strange tingling sensation and a flash of light as she fell forward, closing her eyes. Everything spun, and the only clear sensation was that of Magnus' arms still around her waist. Suddenly her feet hit solid ground and she nearly fell over, catching herself just in time.

"You can open your eyes now." Magnus said from behind her, laughter evident in his voice. Arella blinked, breath catching as she took in the sight before her. They were standing on a balcony that overlooked a magnificent city, a matrix of glistening buildings. Something familiar echoed in her mind; this was an angelic city, a city of Nephilim. Isabelle chuckled at the expression on her face as she stepped to the end of the balcony, her hands on the railing.

"It's exactly as I imagined." She said, turning back to grin at Magnus and the others. The warlock chuckled, moving to stand next to her and gently kissing her cheek.

"We aren't here for sightseeing." Maryse said stiffly. "The Clave wants to see you, Arella." The angel stiffened, fear washing over her. The Clave?

"They'll execute me on the spot." She whispered, and Magnus tightened his grip on her hand.

"No." Jace said. "If you can prove your angelic blood, they'll have to let you live. Killing or imprisoning an Angel is the highest form of heresy." Magnus turned to Jace, expression stony.

"I'll go with her." He said, and Clary nodded.

"I will too. If we testify, they'll have to listen." Arella shook her head.

"But what about my mother? When they find out who she is-"

"Your father is Raziel. Angelic blood is dominant. That's all we have to say." Jace interrupted. Magnus put his arms around her, gently rocking Arella back and forth as she considered.

"Alright." She said. "I'll do it." Maryse nodded and exited the balcony through a large arch and the rest of them followed. Inside, they were greeted by two Shadowhunters, both looking grim and focused.

"We will escort you to the Clave." One of them said, pointing to Arella. She nodded, following behind them with Magnus, Clary and Jace in tow.

"Just stay calm." Magnus whispered. "I promise you, everything will be totally fine." Arella sucked in a breath, squeezing his hand as the Shadowhunters led them to a pair of ornate wooden doors, pushing them open to reveal a circular room. Inside, the Clave was seated in a circle, all staring at Arella, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disgust, maybe even hatred.

"You are Arella, the unknown being who arrived at the Institute in New York a little over a week ago?" The man seated in the middle of the room asked, eyes narrowing. Jace recognized him as the Inquisitor. Arella nodded, and Magnus could feel her trembling.

"Yes." She replied. The Inquisitor frowned, examining her and the way that Magnus had his arms around her.

"What are you?" he asked. Arella took a deep breath, lifting her chin and staring at the Inquisitor.

"I am the daughter of the Angel Raziel." She said. The Inquisitor grit his teeth.

"That is not what I asked." He said. "I asked what you are, not who your father is." Jace stepped forward, placing a hand on Arella's shoulder.

"Her parentage will matter a great deal, Inquisitor." He said.

"Jace. I am not surprised to see you. But I was under the impression that I was asking Arella the questions." The Inquisitor snapped, and Clary took his hand, pulling him away. Arella stepped forward, Magnus keeping his arms around her as she approached the Inquisitor.

"I am an Angel." She said, voice quaking. The Clave mumbled, but the Inquisitor raised a hand, silencing them.

"An Angel, you say? Then you won't mind telling us who your mother is, will you?" he said, breaking into a thin smile. Magnus growled under his breath, but Arella gripped his hand.

"My mother is… Karathas. A Queen of Hell." She said, biting her lip, willing herself not to tremble, not to show fear. There was an outburst from the members of the Clave, anger filling the room.

"That's impossible!" The Inquisitor shouted, rising from his chair. "You are a demon." The Shadowhunters behind them drew their blades, but Magnus pulled Arella back, sparks dancing at the tips of his fingers.

"No, Magnus." Arella said, prying from his grip and stepping towards the Inquisitor. "Angelic blood is dominant. You only need to cut my skin, to see my blood." All eyes were on her now, though no one moved. Seeing that no swords were driving towards her throat, she reached out a hand, holding it, palm-up, to the Inquisitor. He glared at her, steely eyed, then drew his seraph blade, pressing it against her hand.

"If you are not what you say you are, I will kill you where you stand." He said coldly. Arella smiled, a nervous laugh escaping her.

"I am what _you_ say I am, the adamas will burn me." She said. With a look of triumph in his eyes, the Inquisitor drew the blade quickly across Arella's palm, leaving a deep gash that instantly began to drip with golden ichor. He drew back with a surprised cry as the blood spattered onto the floor, leaving stains on the fine carpet. Magnus rushed forward, but she stopped his, her uninjured hand at her chest. Without uttering a word she unclasped the top of her gear, revealing the permanent Angelic Rune inked on her skin and smearing the blood across it. Jace and Clary watched, unsurprised, as the wings formed from her back, but the Clave retreated, a few leaping from their seats.

"Can you really doubt that?" Magnus said, taking Arella by the wrist and quickly healing the wound on her palm. The Inquisitor was the first to regain his composure, clearing his throat and approaching. He had no evidence anymore, her blood had proven that she was telling the truth, and he had no way to prove that this was all an elaborate ruse. The Clave was muttering, all eyes trained on Arella and the Inquisitor. After a moment he relented, sitting back down in his chair with a reluctant sight.

"Very well. You may remain in Alicante, and are free to assist us in our battles. You are dismissed." He said, waving his hand at them. Magnus smiled, his cat-like eyes twinkling as he pulled Arella from the courtroom, his chin against her shoulder as he pressed his lips to her cheek.

"You did it. You did it." He whispered, turning to watch the door close behind them. Jace and Clary were grinning, but before Arella had a chance to thank them Magnus lifted her off the ground and kissed her, rendering her speechless.

"Magnus…" she said, flushing as he released her. He winked at her, but Arella just frowned and turned to the others. "Thank you." She said. Jace shrugged.

"I didn't really do much; I just managed to piss him off." He said, but Arella smiled.

"No, you did help. I couldn't have kept my knees from knocking if I didn't have all of you there." She looked up at Magnus, eyes shining. Maryse was standing a little ways off, watching the whole scene and looking slightly uncomfortable. Isabelle, who noticed the change in her mother's demeanor, gave her a small frown and went to Arella, patting her on the shoulder. She knew Maryse was only upset because she had half-hoped Arella would be imprisoned, not allowed to fight.

"It'll be an honor to fight beside you." She said, smiling at her. Arella turned and hugged her.

"Thank you." She said, and Isabelle returned the embrace, a surprised kind of grin on her face.

"Alright, alright, enough of this canoodling." Jace said, though he was still chuckling. "There's a hoard of demons waiting to break into the city; I suggest we start preparing." Arella pulled away, her expression determined.

"Of course." All business, she turned to Maryse. "What do we have? Greater Demons, Princes of Hell?" she asked. Maryse looked a bit surprised but turned to her anyway.

"All of them." She said, somberly. Arella grimaced. "The Clave has contacted those Downworlders who chose to fight with us in the battle against Valentine." Clary looked to her.

"Who agreed?" she asked. Maryse shrugged slightly.

"As before, we have the allegiance of the Pack and Lucian, but the others seem more reluctant. Now that there is no immediate threat to them, the Downworlders are less likely to comply. It would seem that they think it safer to continue hiding in the shadows." Jace grumbled something under his breath and Clary elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a stern look.

"What? It's true." He said, but gave up as she continued to stare at him.

"You should Mark us again." Isabelle said, looking to Clary. "It gave us an advantage last time; and we need all the help that we can get. I'm sure the Clave will agree again, there's no reason why not." Clary nodded, turning to the door and pushing it open.

"Are you really just going to walk in there?" Jace asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes." Clary replied, before slipping inside with her boyfriend close on her tail. Magnus sighed; he remembered the last time the Mark had been used. Thinking of Alec still made his heart ache like it was caught inside a vice, but when Arella noticed his expression and gripped his hand, the pain lessened. Thank God he had her; he very much doubted that he would have made it this long without her. Isabelle started off along the balcony, eventually turning into an ornate hallway and gesturing for Magnus and Arella to follow.

"Come on." She said with a slight smile. "We have a _lot_ to do."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi readers! Yet another chapter has been posted, finally. My computer's been acting a little odd these days, so I have been forced to post from study hall on occasion. Hopefully, I will manage to get things all fixed up before I go on vacation. Enjoy, and please review! I want to hear from you!**

**I do NOT own The Mortal Instruments. I only own Arella, and the character that will be showing up in the next chapter. :)**

Chapter 12

As it turned out, "a lot to do" was showing Magnus and Arella their room and then pushing them to the courtyard. Shadowhunters were everywhere, milling about and mingling with others that Arella didn't recognize.

"Werewolves." Magnus whispered to her. "This must be Lucian's pack… And it looks like he has some new followers." The warlock had never seen the pack so large; he hated to think what Luke must have done to expand like this. But he knew that the Pack Leader would do anything, especially if it meant helping Joeclyn. Clary's mother was engaged in conversation with Lucian now, the two of them standing apart and looking concerned.

"Oh, Magnus." Luke said as he saw the two approaching. "I wish we were meeting again under happier circumstances." The warlock nodded, and Jocelyn's eyes fell to Arella.

"Is this the one I've heard so much about?" she asked. Arella's eyes widened.

"News travels fast within the Clave, doesn't it?" she said with a smile.

"Yes, it does. I'm Jocelyn Fray, Clary's mother." She said, extending a hand. Arella accepted.

"I'm Arella… And it seems you already know who I am." She said. Luke laughed, a loud bark that half reminded Arella of a wolf; it was fitting, she supposed.

"You did cause quite a stir. Everyone was wondering how you managed to get into Idris; even I need special permission." He said. Arella shrugged, leaning back against Magnus.

"I guess I can thank my father for that." She said, and he kissed the top of her head. The other Shadowhunters were staring at her now, a few even looked frightened.

"Pay them no mind." Magnus said. "You know how Nephilim can be." Arella laughed as he prodded her gently in the side, grinning.

"And I also know how warlocks can be… What did I say about that?" she said, grabbing his hand and sticking it firmly in the pocket of his jeans. "No tickling."

"What? Are you afraid that someone will discover your weakness and turn it against you?" He teased. Arella frowned up at him, sticking out her tongue and wheedling away from him.

"So… Are you two…?" Luke said, gesturing from Magnus to Arella and back again. She flushed, but Magnus smiled.

"Yes." He said simply, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. "Very much so." Jocelyn smiled, taking Luke's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You shouldn't ask things like that. What if you were wrong?" she joked.

"I'm _never_ wrong." He replied, winking at her. Arella giggled a bit, and they looked to her.

"It's nothing." She said. But Magnus prodded her side again. "I just think you two are a cute couple." She admitted, and Luke smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you." He said. Magnus wrapped his arms around Arella's waist, kissing her cheek. Isabelle waltzed up behind them, Simon in tow.

"Hi Luke, Jocelyn." She said. Simon grinned.

"Hi Ms. Fray." He said, a bit sheepishly. Jocelyn smiled in return.

"Simon! Good to see you." The two of them lapsed into an easy chatter and Isabelle turned to Magnus, Arella and Luke.

"The Clave agreed; Clary's going to Mark us again. If we have any chance, this is it." She said. Luke nodded, gaze stony.

"When do we fight?" he asked, tightening his grip on Jocelyn's hand. Isabelle looked at the ground and then addressed all of them.

"Tomorrow at dawn. The Clave believes that taking the offensive is our best chance. If we lose… Idris will fall." She said. Arella snarled under her breath and Magnus clasped her hand.

"Not my father's city. They'll have to get through me." She said.

"How did so many demons escape into the world?" Luke asked, perplexed.

"Sebastian." Clary had appeared behind Isabelle, looking angered. "He's been bringing down the wards for a while, but after our failed attempt at the Underground her started freeing the Greater Demons and the Princes of Hell. They agreed to fight against Idris if he released them." Magnus' eyes flashed, sparks dancing at his fingertips.

"Don't get too excited, warlock." Jace said, walking over to them and leaning on Clary's shoulder. "I'm the only one who's going to kill him." Sighing, Magnus nodded, though his tense posture didn't change. There was the sound of a bell clanging, chiming out the hour; seven.

"Seven?" Arella said. "I didn't realize-"

"We lost time coming through the portal." Magnus explained. "I must have misjudged and sent us ahead… It can happen." Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"It shouldn't." she grumbled, but together they followed the crowd of Shadowhunters and werewolves now streaming inside the building, breaking off into groups and dispersing.

"Dinner." Isabelle explained. "And then we start Marking." Everyone seemed to be heading to a communal dining room, and Arella could smell food cooking within. "Normally, everyone eats in their own homes." Isabelle explained. "But The Clave needs everyone in close proximity. All Shadowhunters who are of age are to fight… It's our only hope." Tables had been set out across the room, and the Shadowhunters were assembled around them, eating plates of steaming food.

"It reminds me of an army encampment. Like during the Civil War." Magnus said, looking around. Arella looked at him, a small smile on her face.

"You saw the Civil War?" she asked. Magnus nodded, grim-faced.

"And a more devastating fight I have never seen. Couldn't stomach staying for the whole thing… Mundanes shooting one another down. Revolting." Arella frowned, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. She hadn't know that little tidbit about Magnus, but it had happened after she left him. Jace and Clary led the way to a table off to the side, sparsely occupied by a few stray werewolves who didn't seem quite at ease with so many Nephilim around.

"Just sit tight. I've got this." Jace said, moving over to the counter where they were dolling out food.

"I hope it's good, at least." Magnus groaned, holding his stomach in mock agony. "I'm _starving_!" Arella punched him lightly on the arm.

"Quit being so dramatic; you're fine." She said, nuzzling against his shoulder when he pouted and whined at her. Jace returned before Magnus could launch another complaint, assisted by Luke, who had appeared from the crowd laden with plates.

"Here." He said, dropping the food unceremoniously in front of Magnus before handing it out to the rest of the group. Arella looked down at the food. It was some kind of stew, presumably with some kind of meat for the benefit of werewolves and Shadowhunters alike. Simon sighed, staring at the plates surrounding him; he missed being able to eat human food. Arella smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder, feeling sorry for him. It was awful, wanting blood, and she just counted herself lucky that she could eat human food as well. The stew actually wasn't bad, and Magnus was already half-finished with his plate. Around them, Arella could hear little snippets of conversation; mostly Shadowhunters whispering about the upcoming battle, speculations about whether or not they would survive. She felt the pangs of fear and anger from all around her, and the overload of foreign emotions was making her tremble. Magnus noticed and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked, but Magnus waved her away. This wasn't the time, Arella just needed to calm down. After a moment she stopped trembling, willing the sounds away, pushing the emotions out of her head. She needed to keep her guard up; fighting alongside the Shadowhunters would be very difficult if she continued to let their emotions reach her like this.

"I'm fine." She said, sitting up. Magnus was still watching her, looking concerned, but she smiled at him and went back to her meal. In truth, she was worried. The battle wouldn't be easy; and fighting could draw out her demonic blood. It wasn't so much herself that she was worried about, but everyone else. If she was hurt or lost control, she could drain some poor Shadowhunter of blood before she realized what was happening. Magnus seemed to sense her fear, and he leaned against her shoulder.

"Nothing will happen. I promise." He said. Isabelle nodded.

"You're an Angel." She said, as if that was the answer to everything. Arella sighed; could just one Angel really help to fight this many demons? Suddenly, she remembered something, and stood up, slamming her hands down on the table.

"Magnus, I need you to do something for me." She said quickly. The warlock looked up at her, confused.

"Of course. What is it?" he asked, taking her hand. Arella turned to him, eyes shining.

"I need you to summon someone for me." Magnus frowned, pulling her back down onto the bench and resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Arella… We're in _Idris_. If I summon a demon here, the Clave will arrest the both of us for betraying them."

"But it isn't a demon… Technically." She said, placing her hands on top of his. "He's my birthright, from my mother. And I need him, now." Magnus was still shaking his head, but he knew that he had picked the wrong fight. Arella was looking at him, eyes pleading. "Please? He could help us win. Another soldier, and a ruthless one at that." She said. The others were all staring at her, and a strange silence surrounded them. Finally, Jace spoke.

"I would think that, so long as you aren't aiding the demons, the Clave really couldn't object. Magnus is fully capable of raising a demon; and if I recall, the Clave has employed your services before." The warlock groaned. Since when had Jace been on Arella's side?

"Fine." He said. Arella beamed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him.

"Thank you! And I promise, nothing will go wrong." She said, turning back to her plate and quickly polishing off the rest of her stew. Magnus mumbled under his breath as she grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the table and out of the hall.

"Arella, wait…" he said. She stopped running, looking at him. "Are you sure you want to do this now?" She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Magnus. I am very, very sure. Now can we _go?_" He sighed, extending his hand and allowing her to continue pulling him down the corridor towards their room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Posting from Puerto Rico tonight! I was lucky enough to find wifi here, and can (thankfully) continue reading all of the awesome stories that I have found! Chapter thirteen is up, and we introduce a new character! Enjoy, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own TMI. I only own Arella and Ithrul. They are both mine. And no one else can have them. :)**

Chapter 13

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the candles that Magnus had set up along the walls.

"I still think this is a bad idea." He said, crouched on the floor, painting a large pentagram with the tip of his index finger.

"Magnus, really. Trust me on this." She said. "He isn't going to hurt anyone. And I promise that you have nothing to fear. Besides," she smiled, looking down at her hands. "I haven't seen him in over a century." Magnus bit his lip and began drawing out a circle for himself and Arella to stand in, but she stopped him.

"Arella, do you know anything about summoning a demon? If we don't have a circle, then-"she kissed him, cutting him off and grinning.

"Then the demon can harm us, I _know_. But it'll take longer and frankly, we don't need it." Magnus pulled away, glaring at her.

"If we die, I am going to kill you." He said, but he relented. He trusted Arella, more than he trusted anyone, and he was willing to risk it if she told him to. He stood back, conjuring up his spell book, but Arella stayed his hand, stepping towards the pentagram and lifting her hand.

"I call upon you, my servant, my birthright." She said quietly, removing her seraph blade from her belt and swiftly pricking her finger. A single drop of gold and black blood fell, beading in the center of the design. Magnus watched as the ichor spread like fire, illuminating the painted lines, black flames licking at the edges. He drew back as something large swirled into being, crouched in the center of the circle.

"Who calls?" the thing said, drifting like smoke for an instant more before taking the form of a large black panther, flame wisping from its fur.

"I do. Long time no see, Ithrul." Arella said. The demon looked up at her with glowing yellow eyes.

"Kimadantes…" he whispered, dispersing into smoke and converging once more into the form of a young man with ebony hair and golden eyes. Arella slid the blade back into its sheath and scuffed out the side of the circle with her foot. The flames vanished and Magnus gave an apprehensive squeak; the demon was free. Ithrul dropped to one knee, his fist pressed to his heart.

"My lady… It has been too long." He said. Arella smiled, laughing.

"Enough with the formalities. I am not my mother." She said. Ithrul rose and instantly pulled her into a hug, grinning ear to ear and showing pointed white teeth.

"It is good to see you, princess." He said, setting Arella back on her feet. "But why have you called me now?" he looked to Magnus, who tried to maintain his composure. Ithrul sure _felt_ like a dangerous demon to him. "Is this… No, not Magnus Bane." He said, winking at Arella. "I thought you and he-"  
"We did. But I had the good fortune to come across him again." She explained. "I need you, Ithrul. We are on the brink of war, and I must ask that, as my servant, you fight beside me." The demon frowned.

"I heard of war. So it is true, then, that you are fighting in the name of your father?" Arella nodded, and Ithrul sighed. "Your mother will not be pleased when she discovers this… But who am I to be the bearer of bad news?" he smiled, kneeling again and offering his hand to her. "I would much rather serve you, princess, than the Queen of Hell. Consider me your soldier." Arella smiled, then pressed her still bleeding finger to his palm. A red mark, previously invisible, flared there, and before Magnus' eyes it changed, the lines twisting and curving, forming a new shape that vaguely resembled a pair of wings.

"What was that?" he whispered to her. Ithrul stood as Arella turned to Magnus.

"Ithrul was my mother's servant, until just now. I have had the right to claim his as my own for centuries, but circumstances would have made it difficult. Now, however, he is mine."

"And I no longer am required to serve that…" Ithrul mumbled, but he broke off, looking to Arella. "Forgive me, but I do think poorly of your mother." She laughed.

"I feel the same." She replied. Magnus extinguished the candles with a quick snap, and with another turned the lights back on.

"Are we done here? Because I would feel a lot better if all of this was gone." He said, gesturing to the candles and painting on the floor. Arella chuckled, moving to stand behind him and putting her arms around his waist.

"Of course. Go ahead." She said. "We're lucky that Ithrul is an insubstantial demon; otherwise it would have been impossible to summon him here. That said, you still need to lay low." She said, turning to Ithrul. He nodded, taking a seat on the bed and looking around the room.

"What if they are to find me?" he asked. "Won't you be punished?" Arella waved a hand in his direction, dismissing him.

"We're only here for the rest of tonight, Ithrul. We fight tomorrow." She said, resting her forehead against Magnus' chest. The demon smiled, and Magnus could see the bloodlust in his eyes.

"Good. Waiting around would be boring." He said, more to himself than to them. "But what of the Nepilim? They'll kill me on sight like any other demon." Arella groaned; he had a point.

"Ithrul… We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But you are _not_ to harm any Nephilim, do you understand me? If you do, then I will be forced to send you back into the service of my mother." Ithrul paled a bit, raising his hand in oath.

"I understand." He said, perhaps a little bitterly. Magnus grasped Arella's hand, leaning in to kiss her. There was a knock on the door.

"Damnit." He swore, but Arella kissed his cheek and slipped to the door, opening it just enough to peer out. It was Jace, closely followed by Clary and Isabelle. Simon was hanging towards the back of the group, looking a little sheepish and awkward.

"Hi." Arella said. Jace took a step into the room and stopped, eyes narrowed.

"Demon energies." He said, resting one hand on the hilt of his seraph blade. Arella sighed.

"Ithrul? Could you come here please? There're a few people I need you to meet." Clary was the first one in, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Ithrul, and Jace brandished his sword.

"Nephilim." The demon grumbled. "Always so tense." Arella reached out and pushed the sword down.

"Jace, please. He's not going to hurt anyone." She said, looking to Ithrul. "He's my servant. I summoned him because I know that he can help us." She said. Ithrul grinned at her, winking one golden eye.

"Anything for you, my lady." He said a bit teasingly. She punched him in the arm, snarling a bit under her breath.

"Arella, you've summoned a _demon_ in Idris, not to mention in the building where the CLAVE and every Shadowhunter in the world is gathered." Isabelle said. Ithrul gave her a once-over, whistling in approval.

"No need to worry. Even the Clave can't sense me here. I'm… Insubstantial." He explained, holding up his hand and allowing it to disperse into black smoke. Isabelle jerked back, looking disgusted.

"Ithrul, control yourself." Arella said sternly. "Do I have to add no flirting with the Shadowhunters to the list of rules?" Ithrul shook his head, sighing and laying back against the pillows. "Isabelle, I apologize for Ithrul's actions; he's spent centuries in the presence of my mother and it seems to have rubbed off on him." The demon stuck his tongue out at her and Magnus glared at him.

"Arella, how will we keep him hidden?" Jace asked. Arella smiled, taking Magnus' hand and kissing it.

"He will remain here until I call for him." She said simply. "Aren't we supposed to be getting ready?" she asked, looking to Isabelle. She groaned.

"Yes, yes we are. Just get Marked up and be ready to fight at dawn." She said, losing patience and slamming the door behind her. Clary took Jace's hand and led him out into the hall.

"Be ready on time." she reminded them before the door shut, leaving Magnus and Arella alone with Ithrul.

"So… Now what?" The demon asked. Arella sat down on the bed next to him, starting to peel off her shirt.

"Now, you are going to go and hide in the closet or float in the walls like a good little cloud of smoke, because I am going to start putting Runes on myself." She said firmly. Ithrul groaned and dissipated, drifting away.

"_You're no fun, my lady_." His disembodied voice reached them as he vanished. Instantly, Magnus grabbed Arella, who was half-way out of her shirt and kissed her, his hands running up and down her sides.

"Magnus!" she said, laughing as his lips found her cheek and neck, breath tickling. "I need to do my Marks… Isabelle will get mad." She said, pulling away and starting to trace the tip of her finger along the inside of her arm. Black lines appeared, shimmering momentarily before setting like tattoos onto her skin. Strength, balance, and a few half-finished _iratzes_ in case she needed to heal herself. Finally, she turned to Magnus and held out her hand.

"Will you fight with me? Draw on my strength with the Rune Clary created?" she asked. The warlock blushed, lacing his fingers into hers and nodding.

"I couldn't think of anyone I would rather be with than you." He said, and Arella couldn't help but smile at the double meaning. Carefully, she traced out the Rune on the back of her right hand, wincing as it burned before turning black like all the others. Magnus offered his palm and she did the same, a bit apprehensive about putting a Mark on a Downworlder like him. But he didn't seem to mind, and once the Mark was finished she became aware of an odd, tingly sensation running through her veins.

"You'll get used to it." Magnus said, smiling at her. "Magical strength is a bit weird, but I've had eight hundred years to get accustomed to it." Arella rolled her eyes, punching him lightly in the chest.

"Are you sure it's me you should be worrying about?" she said. "My fire could burn you, warlock." Magnus sighed, but she did have a point. He felt a bit warmer than usual, and if he closed his eyes he could see a flame-like pattern dancing faintly on his eyelids.

"It will take some getting used to." He admitted. "But by tomorrow I should have it under wraps." Arella sat down on the bed and then fell back, flopping down onto the mattress.

"We don't _have_ until tomorrow." She said, nerves flooding through her. "We attack at dawn." Magnus crawled onto the bed and lay down next to her, reaching out to take her hand.

"Arella, if we live through this, I will follow you anywhere." He said. She laughed.

"_NOW_ you decide to tell me this?" she said indignantly.

"What? It's more romantic that way." He replied, pouting at her. "I thought you liked that kind of stuff."

"I do," Arella said. "But couldn't you have told me sooner? I mean… We could-" he silenced her with a kiss, not wanting to hear what she thought of their future, and not wanting to dwell on his own fears. Death was no longer an option.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello! Nothing better than posting from under a palm tree! I hope that you are all enjoying the story thus far, and I, the author, have one teeny tiny favor to ask... Please review? I want to know what you all think; I love hearing from my readers! I'll give you a sparkly cookie!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Arella and Ithrul... And the Queen of Hell, she's kind of mine too. The rest of the characters belong to CC!**

Chapter 14

Magnus awoke to the sound of feet stampeding in the hall outside and Arella shouting in his ear.

"Magnus, we have to go." She was saying, shaking him. The warlock sat up, rubbing his eyes. Dawn was breaking outside the window, the sun's light just beginning to peek over the horizon. Arella was already dressed, her black gear a startling contrast to her pale skin, the Runes standing out clearly against her collarbone and neck.

"I'm up, I'm up…" he groaned, stretching and arching his back. Suddenly it hit him; they were going to war. Magnus bolted out of bed, throwing on his shirt and snapping on the arm guards that Arella had laid out for him. "Are you ready?" he asked, giving his fingers and experimental snap and watching blue sparks shoot into the air. He was running hot, which was good, and was ready. Arella nodded, then turned to the wall and knocked.

"Ithrul?" not a moment after she called, the demon seeped into the room, black smoke that condensed into the form of an immense black jaguar with shining yellow eyes.

"Is it time?" he asked, voice low and rough. Arella nodded and he grinned, displaying wickedly long and sharp fangs behind black lips.

"You will remain by me unless ordered… I can't have you running off and getting killed, now can I?" she said, resting a hand on top of his head. He purred, nuzzling into her palm for a moment before padding over to the door. Arella opened it, revealing utter chaos in the hallway. Shadowhunters, all dressed in the same black gear as her, were rushing about, shouting to one another and toting sharp blades. Isabelle, Jace and Clary were standing a little ways away, and they looked up when Arella and Magnus stepped into the hall.

"Impressive gathering." Magnus said, looking around at the mass of people. Jace glowered first at him, and then at Ithrul, who snarled.

"Can you really trust this demon?" he asked. Arella nodded.

"Yes. He's the _only_ one I can trust." Magnus made a little whimpering sound and she frowned at him. "You know what I mean; now isn't the time to be jealous." Ithrul was watching the Shadowhunters, looking bored and out of place.

"Demon!" one of them shouted, catching sight of him and drawing a seraph blade from his belt.

"Peace. He is mine." Arella said calmly, a new tone of authority in her voice. "Ithrul fights for us, not against us." The Shadowhunter eyed her, apprehensively replacing his blade in its sheath and continuing down the hall.

"So uptight." Ithrul said with a growl. "Can't Nephilim ever have a little fun?" Arella nudged him with the toe of her boot.

"Ithrul your idea of fun is seducing hapless girls and hunting animals, usually cute little deer. You are a ruthless killer, and if you weren't under my control, you would probably be mauling everyone in sight out of boredom." The demon laughed and purred, tapping one of his claws against the stone floor.

"True. Count yourself lucky that I'm on your side." He said, addressing Jace, Clary and Isabelle. There was the abrupt clanging of bells and all of the Shadowhunters began rushing out into the main hall, drawing their weapons. Arella grabbed Magnus by the hand and dragged him along, Ithrul at her heels. It was too crowded, they couldn't get through.

"This way." Jace turned sharply up a flight of stairs and down a narrower corridor until they reached a small balcony overlooking the city and the land beyond. It was utter chaos. Demons of all grotesque shapes and sizes were swarming against the wards, and the Nephilim were pouring from the gates, pressing them back and away from the city. Ithrul growled, hackles raised as he watched the carnage below, teeth bared.

"We have to help." Clary said, twisting her seraph blade agitatedly in her hand. Arella turned to Magnus and kissed him unexpectedly; the warlock nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Be safe." She said, and then her wings burst from her back, silvery white with black-tipped primary feathers. Magnus smiled at her, grasping her hand.

"You too." He said, helping her onto the railing. For a moment she stood, surveying the carnage spreading outside the city gates.

"Stay here until I call you, Ithrul." The demon bowed his huge head.

"As you wish, my lady." Arella smiled, then she let herself fall, tumbling through the air until she caught herself, wings flaring and carrying her up into the sky. Some of the Shadowhunters below saw her and pointed as she swooped low over the walls, drawing her blade.

"_Ithuriel._" She whispered, and the sword burst into life, gleaming as she dove towards the first demon she saw, sword driving home between the creatures ribs. It shrieked in surprise and pain, and then vanished in a burst of black flame. Arella turned; the others had vanished from the balcony, save for Ithrul. The demon would wait until she called for him as she had ordered. The Shadowhunters had spilled onto the plains, and all out war had begun. From her vantage, she could see as demon and Nephilim alike were cut down, and she bolted towards the ground, rushing to the aid of a dark-haired boy who was being overtaken by a demon. Her sword flashed and the boy fell from the beast's grasp, landing on the ground with a harsh thud.

"Angel…" the demon hissed. Arella smiled, eyes flaring as her control slipped and she gave in to her instincts.

"No." she said, and struck, watching her sword crush the demons' armor and his body dissolved into more black fire. She landed, and the Shadowhunter rose, staring at her. "Are you alright?" she asked. He nodded. "Good. Thank you for your service, comrade." It was what succubi said when fighting together, a display of friendship. Before he could respond she was gone in a swirl of dust, back in the air, wings driving her powerfully forward. Jace and Clary had joined the fight; she could see them both battling a demon on the outskirts of the crowd, and Isabelle was back to back with Simon, taking out demons as fast as they could come at her. Anxious, Arella scanned the fray for Magnus and quickly found him. Fingertips ablaze with blue fire, he was taking down demons left and right, green eyes fierce. Glancing up, she saw Ithrul pacing, when he suddenly stopped, looking down and growling. Arella followed the line of his gaze and saw Azazel, his hand clenching around the throat of a Shadowhunter girl. Without thought she dived, seraph blade flaring as she shouted.

"ITHRUL!" The demon bounded from the balcony, black flames dancing at his feet as he streamed through the air, roaring to her side, maw gaping as he lunged for Azazel's throat. The Prince turned too late, and Ithrul's teeth pierced his skin. He released the girl and Arella caught her, snarling. It was too late; she was dead.

"Azazel…" she hissed, laying the fallen Shadowhunter on the ground and rising to her feet. He stared at her for a moment, then smiled, ignoring the jaguar now tearing at his shoulder.

"Kimadante? Is that really you?" he asked, grabbing Ithrul by the scruff of the neck and throwing him to the ground. "How you've grown!" Arella jerked back as he reached for her, fangs elongating, eyes turning red.

"How dare you!" she shrieked, slashing at him with her sword. The blade struck home, opening a gash in his cheek. Azazel gasped and jumped back, the holy metal burning his skin. "You do _not_ touch me." He smiled at her, eyes narrow.

"My dear Kimadante-" he began, but another blow from the seraph blade silenced him.

"My name is _Arella_." She hissed. "And I am not your dear anything, betrothed or not." Ithrul looked to her with a confused snarl.

"Kimadante, do you think our betrothal dissolved when you left?" Azazel said. "You are still to be-" But at that moment his left side burst into blue flame and he fell, snarling. Magnus had appeared beside her, murder in his green eyes.

"You stay _away_ from her." The warlock growled. Azazel looked from him to Arella, and then burst into laughter.

"The Princess of Hell… And a warlock! Precious, simply precious." He brushed the flames away like they were nothing, but even a demon like Azazel couldn't ignore the burns they left behind. "Did she ever tell you, warlock, that she was engaged to me?" Arella hissed, hands curling into fists, but Magnus was staring at her.

"Arella?" he said. She shook her head.

"It was no _engagement_. I was never asked, never told until the day he came for me. But I was never his." She looked to Magnus, imploring him, begging him. "It's why I left my home. I don't love him and I never did." Ithrul rumbled angrily, and then leapt again, but Azazel knocked him aside as if he were made of paper.

"Foolish demon." He said, lifting his hand. "Angel serving-" And Arella struck, lashing out, her blade piercing the spot where his heart would have been. He stared at her, eyes wide as the black fire began to consume him. "You know not who you have betrayed." He said, and then Azazel, the Great Prince of Hell, was gone. Arella fell back onto the ground, panting and staring down at the seraph blade in her hands. Ithrul picked himself up and slunk over to her, gently nuzzling her cheek and purring.

"You did it, my lady." He said warmly. Arella smiled, reaching out to rub behind his ear, but there was the sudden sound of a scuffle from behind her and Ithrul growled, crouching low and springing in front of her.

"My daughter… So it really is you." Arella stiffened, turning around. The Queen of Hell was standing behind her, red eyes flashing, Magnus clutched in her arms. "It's been centuries, child." She said coolly, smiling and displaying long, white fangs.

"Arella… Run." Magnus choked, struggling against the Queen's grip. But Karathas gripped his hair, twisting his head to the side, grinning wickedly.

"Magnus… No…" Arella said, starting forward.

"Arella… I love you." Magnus said, eyes widening as the Queen of Hell drove her fangs into his neck.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello readers! Posting from the airport in Puerto Rico... I don't want to go home! It's cold there! Anyway, I have another chapter up for you guys, hope you enjoy it! Unfortunately, I feel that I am posting this story too fast... As I only have two chapters left. So, I will be taking a short break and then returning... Once I figure out what I'm going to after this story is done. I'm thinking a sequel... That would be fun to write! Anyway, as usual, please please PLEASE review my story! Do you think I should write a sequel? (I already have a pretty good idea for it!)**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own TMI. I only own Arella. And Ithrul. I wish I owned Magnus. But alas, I did not have the genius to come up with him before Cassandra did.**

Chapter 15

The sounds of war faded away, the battle vanishing from view. All Arella could see was Magnus, and the blood trickling from the wounds on his neck as the Queen of Hell released him. The warlock fell to the ground, eyes blank, his neck turning black and red where she had bitten him. He lay silent for a moment, and then screamed, clutching at the bite, writhing in pain.

"Magnus…" she said. Ithrul grasped the back of her shirt in his teeth.

"Arella… You can't-" he began, but drew back. Arella's wings were turning black, ichor streaking down them like ink. Her fangs grew, nearly piercing her lips as her eyes turned fully red, her pupils swallowed by her irises. She growled, the sound emanating from deep within her chest. Nearby, Jace watched, the Inquisitor standing next to him.

"You told me… That she was an Angel." He said, looking to the young Shadowhunter. Jace shrugged, but he too was looking perplexed. Even when Arella had been craving blood, she looked nothing like this. She crouched, talons erupting from her wings like those on a bat, wickedly sharp.

"Oh, was he your mate?" The Queen of Hell sneered. "Then you should have Marked him, you Angel-serving ingrate. My daughter, you never should have been born." With that, Karathas turned, kicking some dirt onto Magnus as she went. "You aren't even worth my time." Ithrul roared, but Arella moved before he could, darting forward so fast that even the Shadowhunters couldn't track her. Karathas' laughter turned into a scream as her daughter crashed into her, talons piercing her skin as she gripped her wings, feeling the bones creak under her hands.

"Then you shouldn't have _made_ me, you Angel-screwing whore." She snarled, knocking The Queen of Hell to the ground, fangs bared. Karathas shrieked as Arella pulled, one foot planted in the Queen's back. With a sickening crunch, her black wings separated, tearing from her shoulders.

"Arella!" Ithrul shouted, his gold eyes wide as she stepped back, throwing the feathered and bloodied limbs aside and letting out a roar that made Karathas shrink away.

"How _dare_ you?" she snarled, standing up, ichor dripping from her shredded back as she faced her daughter. Arella growled as the Queen leapt for her, claws dragging at her face and chest.

"You Marked him…" Arella snarled. "You _Marked_ him. He was MINE!" her teeth found Karathas' shoulder and the Queen yowled. Arella drove her hand into her chest, fangs bared, lips black with ichor.

"You would kill your mother?" The Queen said, eye narrow. "You were always so defiant, so determined not to be like me. You would do what I did to gain power? I thought you were an Angel." Arella paused, but Magnus wailed and she looked up at him. The warlock was covered in dirt and blood, tears streaking down his cheeks as he clutched the burning mark.

"The descent into Hell is easy, mother." Arella said, and pressed in, tearing into the Queen. Karathas roared in pain, and then went limp, eyes darkening and rolling back. Ithrul watched as Arella withdrew, something black clutched in her hand. The Queen's heart.

"Kimadante…" he said, and she turned; for once, she didn't object to the use of her birth name. Without hesitation, she raised the heart to her lips, biting and draining it of blood. In that moment, every succubi battling the Shadowhunters froze, quite a few being slain in their hesitation. As Arella dropped the heart, Ithrul bowed his head, kneeling as every succubi did the same. Jace watched, but the Inquisitor drew his blade and moved forward, sword directed at Arella. Ithrul snarled, but Arella turned to the succubus closest to her.

"Retreat. Now." She said, and the female demons fled, rising into the air on black wings and vanishing over the mountains in the distance. But the war still raged, and Arella rushed to Magnus, lifting him into her arms.

"Magnus…" she ran her fingers through his hair and he looked up at her, eyes focusing on her face.

"Arella… My Arella…" He said, reaching out to touch her. She pushed his hand away, lifting the collar of his jacket and gasping when she saw his neck. The skin was stained with a sick imitation of the Runes that marked the Nephilim, a curling matrix of black and red lines.

"Magnus… She Marked you." His jaw dropped, his hand flying to his neck.

"No." he said, leaning in to kiss her. But even before his lips touched hers, there was such a feeling of _wrong_ that he pulled back, eyes filling with tears. "But… I want you." He said, wrapping his arms around her neck. Arella nodded, holding back her own tears. There was something she could do… But to do so would be to bind him forever. Still, even that would be better than driving him to madness.

"Magnus… I can help you." She said, resting a hand against his cheek. He smiled, but then he noticed the expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Arella shook her head.

"Magnus, will you be mine forever?" Magnus' eyes went wide and his mouth opened slightly.

"Arella…" he whispered. "Yes… Of course I will." Arella smiled, unable to suppress her tears any longer.

"Ithrul!" she called, and the demon rushed to her.

"Yes my lady?" he asked, bowing. Arella sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Ithrul, please, don't be so formal." She said. The jaguar dispersed into smoke before reforming into the dark haired young man.

"My lady, forgive me. But, you are The Queen of Hell now, having claimed your mother's title. It is only proper." He said sheepishly. Arella smiled.

"If it makes you happy, then. But right now, I need you to take Magnus. Bring him to the city gates and guard him, with your life if need be." She said. Ithrul nodded, transforming again and hoisting the warlock onto his back.

"I will, your highness." He said with a smirk, before bounding off and vanishing from view. Arella looked around; it seemed that the battle was not faring well for the Shadowhunters. The demons were continuing to pour in out of nowhere, and the Nephilim just couldn't keep up.

"Arella!" she turned; Jace and Isabelle were calling to her, the blonde-haired boy embedding his sword in a demon's chest and smiling. "Arella, the Clave… They're going to call the battle off. Surrender." She snarled, clenching her fists.

"What? But they can't do that! Don't they realize that they'll be shown no mercy? Every last man, woman and child will be slaughtered if they give up." She said. Isabelle nodded, coiling her whip around her wrist.

"But they don't care. We'll all die anyway." She said disdainfully. Arella bit her lip; the Clave had a point. There was no way they could defeat this many demons alone…

"But what if they had help?" she asked. Jace looked to her, and she smiled. "_Divine_ help."

Magnus was slumped by the gate, Ithrul pacing in front of him, snarling to himself. The warlock was clutching his neck, fighting the pain still surging through him.

"They're not going to make it." The demon said, his claws digging into the dirt. "The Clave has already decided to withdraw." Magnus sat up a bit straighter, wincing.

"What? But they can't… Everyone will die." He said. Ithrul grinned, crouching next to the warlock.

"Indeed." He said. "They will die, as will you, most likely, for aiding the Nephilim. But what of Arella? She's the Queen of Hell now, they won't be allowed to kill her by the law of the Court of Hell." Magnus slumped against the wall, closing his eyes. Arella would live… and he would die. This time, she would be the one suffering from a loss, except that no amount of searching would ever bring him back.

"Ithrul… Promise me that you will keep Arella safe." He said weakly, restraining the lump building in his throat. He couldn't cry, not now, not when he needed so desperately to be strong. The demon smiled sadly, bowing to the warlock.

"I will." He said simply, looking to Magnus, his gold eyes aflame. Magnus sighed, sitting up straight and wincing as the Mark on his neck burned. He wished that Arella could help him, but as far as he knew, there was nothing that she could do. A Mark was a mark… perhaps it was just as well that he was to die. Then maybe Arella could find another… Just the thought of her with anyone else made him sick, and he gasped, unable to stem the tears now streaming down his cheeks. Ithrul rested his head against the warlock's leg. The demon pitied him, he really did. Years spent in Arella's company had led to an extensive knowledge of how she felt about the warlock, and how she believed he felt about her. He began to speak, wanting to say something to comfort the poor man, but there was a bright flare of light from the midst of the battle, and a pillar of flame exploded from the sky.


	16. Chapter 16

** Hey all! I'm back! Sorry that the wait was so long; writer's block and distractions (school and college stuff) but I have the rest of this story finished! So you can expect the last chapter after this! Please take the time to review; I appreciate your feedback! Thanks again!**

Chapter 16

"Divine help?" Jace said, confused. Arella nodded, looking from him to Clary and back again.

"I don't care if the Clave wants to surrender. I can't let all of you die like this… and I guess this _does_ count as an emergency." The last bit was muttered, her gaze turning to the sky. Why hadn't they come on their own yet, with the Nephilim suffering so greatly and sustaining such heavy losses in their name? Still, Angels had always been cold towards the Shadowhunters, not lending any assistance or even useful advice. Before Jace could protest, Arella closed her eyes, reaching down, feeling the demonic blood still pounding through her veins. With a considerable effort, she pressed the energy back down, compressing it, hiding it as the golden ichor swirled back into life. The others watched as her wings faded to a light grey, the demonic aura decreasing. When she opened her eyes, they were closer to a light violet than bright crimson. Without a word she brought the seraph blade in her hand to her chest and pierced the angelic rune on her collar bone. Golden blood beaded there, and she smiled.

"Michael… Help us." She said. The ichor spattered onto the dirt, and a pillar of flame erupted from the clouds, spiraling down towards the earth and forming into the same young man that had visited her at the Institute so many days ago. The Nephilim around them stared, but Arella instantly dropped to one knee, wings folding to her back. Michael was obligated to punish her for being a Queen of Hell, and summoning him could mean her death.

"Arella…" she looked up, and the Angel knelt in front of her, wrapping his arms around her. "Do not fear. You are the daughter of my brother. I could never harm my little niece." The demons around them were falling back, faces distorted in horror at the sight of an Angel standing before them.

"Michael… Please, you must help." She said, turning to gesture at the Shadowhunters. "They are on the brink of surrender, of death. They are the children of the Angels… you must save them." Michael looked up, eyes traveling over the remaining Nephilim, many of whom were still battling.

"Arella, you know I cannot help directly… Law prohibits it." He said. She grit her teeth, wanting to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "However… I can give them strength." Michael raised a hand, and the Runes inked onto Jace's chest and arms began to glow, shifting like those that decorated the Angels. He looked down, then gave a shout of excitement and leapt further than was humanly possible, decapitating a demon in an instant. The other Nephilim were feeling the same effect, their speed and strength increasing. Arella smiled as her own Marks began to shine and Michael released her, stepping back.

"They are calling me." He said, though Arella could hear nothing but the shouts of war. "I must go… I have some explaining to do." With that he spread his wings, rising steadily into the air, white feathers drifting like shooting stars around him as he vanished into a wisp of golden flame. Arella followed suit, taking to the air. She knew that she was no longer needed; the Nephilim would be perfectly capable of handling the demons now that they had the strength and speed. Already, the Shadowhunters were pushing back, driving the demons away from the city, cutting them down faster than they could react. She rose higher, scanning the edges of the crowd. She couldn't make out any definite shapes; the smoke drifting up from below clouded her vision, but she could sense Ithrul nearby, agitated but otherwise unharmed. A winged demon came rushing towards her and she struck, surprised by how quickly she had reacted, and the creature spiraled down towards the earth, vanishing in a burst of black flame as it hit the ground. Arella turned, twisting in midair before diving, piercing the smog like an arrow and landing in the middle of a particularly fierce battle. Three Shadowhunters were combating with a very large and very ugly demon, who was refusing to back down. The creature's armored hide and sharp talons were keeping the Nephilim at bay, and he managed to cut down one of them despite the enhanced Runes. Arella snarled, jamming the tip of her blade between two plates of the demons carapace and jerking back. The armor split in two, and the remaining Shadowhunters pounced, quickly dispatching the beast and watching it vanish into thin air.

"Are you alright?" she shouted to the Shadowhunter on the ground. He sat up and nodded, wiping away the blood dripping down his face and bolting back into the fray after his comrades. One of the werewolves was snarling to her left, it's teeth snapping as a Ravener demon descended on it, talons bared. Arella moved to help, but the Downworlder tore at it fiercely, drawing strength from the Shadowhunter to whom it was bound and tearing the monster apart. Spitting the black ichor onto the ground, the werewolf inclined his head in her direction and bounded off after another demon. Arella weaved through the crowds, pausing occasionally to lend a hand in a fight before moving on, searching for Magnus and Ithrul. Finally, she saw them, huddled against the city wall, the warlock clutching at his neck and Ithrul growling at everyone who passed by.

"Ithrul!" she shouted, pushing by a pair of Shadowhunters who were dragging a wounded soldier off the field and racing towards him. The demon looked up, his golden eyes flooding with relief.

"My lady… You are unharmed?" he asked, walking around her and searching for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Ithrul. How is Magnus?" she replied breathlessly. Ithrul shook his head, glancing over at the man.

"Still in pain. It is too late for the Mark to be removed by any means… You know what the only option is." He said, voice flat. Arella nodded, biting her lip. She had never wanted to resort to this; doing so would take away Magnus' choice. But he would go mad otherwise. She knelt in front of the warlock, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.

"Arella…" he panted, blinking up at her and smiling. She tried to return the gesture, but the pain she read in his eyes made it impossible.

"Magnus… I can fix this." She said. He perked up, wincing as the Mark on his neck flared and burned like molten fire.

"You can?" he sighed in relief, letting her wrap her arms around him and leaning against her shoulder. "Please… It hurts." Arella pressed her lips to his forehead, placing her fingers under his chin and tilting his head back.

"Magnus… If I do this… You will be mine, forever. Is that what you want?" she whispered, heart pounding. If he said no, if he rejected her, she would have no choice but to kill him. Magnus would be better off dead than insane with the Mark of a dead Queen.

"Yes, Arella." He said, green eyes meeting her own red ones. "That is all I have ever wanted… I love you." Gingerly, Arella leaned in, her lips inches away from his neck and the Mark that swirled there, smoke imprinted on his tan skin.

"Magnus?" she said quietly. He peered down at her, expression quizzical.

"Forgive me for this." And then her fangs pierced the Mark and his skin. Magnus froze for an instant, unable to comprehend what it was that he felt flowing through him. But then the odd sensations changed to molten lead, flowing from the bite and through his veins, searing him from the inside. It was even more painful than when Karathas had Marked him. Arella winced, squeezing her eyes shut as the warlock screamed, back arching as he fell to the ground, his nails digging into her back. He was in pain… And it was all her fault. The Shadowhunters nearby heard the commotion, Jace and Clary amongst them.

"Arella!" Isabelle was the first to come running, but Ithrul leapt in her path, roaring.

"You mustn't." he said, but the other Nephilim were already surging towards them, blades drawn. Arella looked like a demon, wings as black as night, talons digging into the dirt, red eyes shining with tears. Ithrul fended off one of the attackers, but another slipped past him, seraph blade in hand, and rushed at Arella. She released Magnus, who curled in on himself, still groaning, and rolled away as the blade slammed into the ground inches away from her right shoulder. Ithrul whirled about, snarling, but Arella held out her hand.

"Ithrul, don't!" she shouted. He would be killed if he fought for her now. The Shadowhunter hovering over her raised the blade again, one foot pinning her wing to the ground and a grim smile on his face.

"Die, demon!" he spat, the sword driving through the air. Arella jerked away, but the blade gouged into her cheek, black ichor trickling down her jaw and into her hair. He raised the blade yet again, but a low growl from behind him drew his attention. Magnus was glaring at him, murder in his green eyes, Arella's Mark decorating his collar bone. Before the Shadowhunter had time to react, the warlock had him pinned to the ground, one hand at his throat, teeth glinting as they changed to fangs, eyes narrowed.

"I'll _kill_ you, if you ever touch her again!" he hissed, the Nephilim choking under his grip.

"Magnus!" Someone was pulling him away, arms wrapped around his chest. The man coughed as Arella pulled Magnus off of him and scampered away from the warlock. "Magnus, stop it! I'm fine." She said. After a moment, he stopped struggling, his breathing calming and his features returning to normal. Arella cradled him as he went limp, horror dawning on his face as he realized what he had been about to do. Isabelle pushed past Ithrul, rushing to Arella's side, staring at Magnus in concern.

"What _was_ that?" she asked, but he couldn't answer her.

"He reacted on instinct… He couldn't help it." Arella said quietly, pressing her lips to the top of Magnus' head and slowly rocking him back and forth. He sighed, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I'm alright." He said, looking up at her. Arella nodded, her free hand moving to the Mark and tracing over the swirling matrix of lines, such a deep shade of violet they appeared almost black.

"Does it hurt anymore?" she asked. Magnus shook his head. "I'm so sorry-" he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. He didn't want to hear her apologies, not right now. Instead, he pulled her closer and kissed her gently, smiling.

"I love you." He said. She flushed, hiding her face in his chest. There was a small giggle, and she looked around. Isabelle had her hand over her mouth, eyes bright with laughter.

"What?" Magnus said, a bit indignantly.

"Nothing… You two just belong in a movie or something… You're so corny." She said, snorting and turning away. Magnus rolled his eyes; Isabelle was a strange one on occasion.

"Ignore her." Arella said, pecking him on the cheek and standing up. The warlock followed suit, his arms encircling her as he pulled her closer. Ithrul padded over to them, head bowed.

"I apologize, my lady, for fighting with the Nephilim." He said. Arella rested her hand on top of his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You did what you thought was right, and I thank you for fighting with me today." Ithrul smiled, purring happily.

"I must go now, my lady. There will be much chaos in the Downworld, and I need to spread the word that a new Queen has risen." Arella nodded, and Ithrul vanished into black flame, twisting in the air before fading away. She turned to what was left of the battle field, studying the carnage. Shadowhunters were removing injured and dead comrades from the ground, transporting them to the edge of the city where the Silent Brothers were now waiting. Ichor stained the earth a dirty black like a Rorschach ink blot, and deep divots were gouged in the ground. But the sun was fully risen on the horizon, casting pink and orange light onto the Glass city behind them, illuminating their victory.

"So," Jace and Clary approached, glancing from Arella to Magnus and back again. "What happens now?" Arella smiled, clasping the warlock's hand and smiling.

"I don't know."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi! Well, this is it! The very last chapter! And might I add that this is also my very first, successfully finished and totally complete story! Hope you enjoy!**

**PS- I may be working on a sequel, just for fun! If you have any suggestions at all, let me know! Thanks**

**Hazel**

Epilogue

After being silent for so long, Magnus' apartment was full of life again. Chairman Meow seemed especially happy to be back in his favorite spot on the couch, but Magnus had managed to spend an entire day cleaning, complaining about the 'abundance of dust' that had taken up residence in his absence. On this particular evening, Jace, Clary, Isabelle and Simon were all crowded around his kitchen table, all dressed to the nines and engrossed in deep conversation.

"I'm just saying, don't you think that the _Queen of Hell_ showing up at a nightclub will cause a bit of a stir?" Isabelle was saying.

"Izzy, you just want to go to that nice restaurant." Jace retorted. "But this isn't our party, and Magnus picked the club." Isabelle rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath. Just then, the door opened and Magnus sidled into the room, dressed in a deep blue suit jacket, black button-down shirt and dress pants, and new silver earrings.

"It's so nice to see everyone getting along." He said sarcastically, taking note of Isabelle's expression. "If it really bothers you that much-"

"No. This is your night." Clary interjected. "They're just all worried that something bad might happen… After all, Arella is kind of important." Magnus shook his head, smiling at Clary and glancing back towards the door of his bedroom.

"Trust me, she can handle herself. And besides, she has me." He said with a grin. "Now, if she would just _hurry up_!" he shouted the last two words, and there was the sound of an exasperated grumble from inside the room.

"Oh, give her a chance." Isabelle said. "It's an important night, and she needs time if she wants to look perfect." Magnus frowned.

"She looks perfect all the time." He pouted, crossing his arms. Simon sighed as Isabelle put her hand on her hips, but luckily for all of them the door opened before a real argument could start. Arella stood there, wearing a short violet dress, her eyes lined with carbon-black and deep purple.

"See?" Isabelle said, snickering as Magnus gaped. "I _told_ you that she would be a knock-out." Arella blushed as the warlock stood, bowing at the waist and offering his hand.

"May I escort you, my love?" he asked, green eyes twinkling, half in amusement and half in excitement.

"Of course." She took his hand and allowed him to lead her out into the room, where he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

"You are positively stunning." He whispered.

"You don't look too shabby yourself." Arella replied. Isabelle smiled, but Simon raised his hand.

"We aren't in school; you can just ask the question." Clary said with a small laugh. Simon frowned at her, then turned sheepishly back to Arella and Magnus.

"So wait… Are you two like… You know… Married?" he blurted.

"No." Isabelle said, before either of them could get a word in. "Tonight is their _engagement_ party. And I don't care what demonic law says; we're going all out with this." Arella rolled her eyes, then addressed Simon.

"Well, contrary to what Isabelle says, I guess we are. But 'marriage' is such a mundane word-"

"Because marriages can end." Magnus finished for her. "And I can assure you that this never will." Arella beamed at him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"So, why did you pick the Underground Tavern? All the happy memories?" Jace said with a smirk. "You know, like Sebastian stabbing your wife-" Clary punched him in the arm and he fell silent, rolling his eyes. Magnus shook his head.

"No. Actually, it was in the original Underground Tavern that Arella and I met for the first time. Which country was that again?" he asked. Arella laughed.

"Spain. And you were constantly speaking in Spanish for the next six months before I confessed that I wasn't totally fluent." She said, smirking up at Magnus, who pouted and prodded her in the side, eliciting an irritated squeak.

"Alright, come on you two lovebirds." Isabelle teased, gesturing to the front door. "The car will be here any second, courtesy of Jace and a bit of finagling on my part." Arella blushed.

"You didn't have to-" she began, but Isabelle shushed her and crossed her arms, effectively ending the argument before it could even start. Magnus took Arella's hand, leading her to the door and holding it open for her.

"After you, my lady." He said, and she sighed in exasperation, though in reality she appreciated the gesture. Chivalry was close to dead, and Arella counted herself lucky that her mate was one of the few men left with an inkling of it. The limousine was waiting for them as it had been last time, door open in anticipation. Magnus guided Arella inside, resting his hand on her knee and tilting her chin up for a brief kiss with the other.

"Excited?" he asked. She nodded.

"Very. I can't wait." Magnus chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulders as the other joined them in the car, all talking and laughing amongst themselves.

"Well, I can't wait to have the first dance with you, Mrs. Bane." He whispered, and she shuddered. Mrs. Bane? In mundane terms, she supposed that it _was_ her name, but she hadn't thought of it that way. Magnus took note of her reaction and laughed to himself; he would have to keep using the term. It was positively adorable and endearing when she blushed like that. Arella rested her head against his shoulder, staring out the window at the city flashing by. She was overjoyed; Magnus was hers, and she had never been happier… But had Marking him really been-

"Arella!" she was jolted back to reality as the car slowed and then stopped in front of the restaurant. Magnus grabbed her hand and they followed the others out onto the street.

"He'll be back for us at midnight." Jace said as the limo and unnamed driver sped away. "Come on, we should get inside." Clary linked her arm in his and together they all went in, coming face to face with the same warlock as last time.

"Oh no." he said, frowning at them. "I remember what happened the last time I let you in here." Magnus leaned against the counter, his arm wrapped around Arella's waist.

"Look… This is kind of important." He said coolly, eyes narrowed. "I _promise_ that we'll keep the Shadowhunters in check. It's not like last time." The attendant glared at him, but a quick glance at Arella's pleading face convinced him.

"Alright, go ahead. But if I hear anything, I'm coming down there. And you will _not_ be happy." He said with a snarl, pointing to the door and letting them pass. Magnus grinned and pulled Arella along towards the entrance to the Underground, eager to get inside and away from the warlock.

"Dance with me, Mrs. Bane?" Magnus said, and Arella set her drink back down on the bar, smiling and taking his hand.

"Of course I will." She said, standing up and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. Isabelle gave her a wink and a pat on the shoulder as she passed. Arella ignored her, allowing Magnus to rest his hands on her hips, his eyes glowing in the half-light of the strobes. She looped her hands around his neck, leaning in until her forehead was pressed to his.

"I love you." She whispered, and Magnus kissed her, twining his hands through her hair as she pushed her hips to his.

"I love you more." He growled, biting at her lower lip. Arella whimpered as he pulled away, swaying to the beat of the music, grinding against her. "And I wouldn't have it any other way." She smiled, running her hands down his chest in a way that made Magnus smile and moan.

"Mine." She snarled, lips travelling up to the Mark on his neck. He gasped, hands at her back, pulling her closer, eyes half-lidded.

"What was _that_?" he asked when she released him. Arella laughed, winking at him with one ember eye.

"The Mark." She said simply before kissing his neck again, chuckling to herself as he shuddered. Magnus relented, allowing himself to melt into Arella's arms, closing his eyes as heat rose in his chest, obliterating all sense of where he was and what was happening around him. He was two steps away from grabbing Arella and pinning her to a wall when she retreated, purring. He was at a loss for words; instead, he pulled her off the dance floor and towards the door to the alleyway.

"Come with me." He said, not giving Arella a chance to protest as he led her up a rickety staircase, the black fire escape.

"Magnus, where are we going?" she asked as he guided her along a black metal ledge and then up onto the roof. It was empty, save for a large metal unit that whirred quietly and a few stray beer cans.

"I know it doesn't look like much." He said. "But come here." Arella followed as he trotted around the side of the unit and then yelped as Magnus covered her eyes.

"Magnus!" she shouted, groping in front of her, but all she could hear was his laughter.

"Relax… Just trust me, love." And she did, slowing down and letting him gently push her in the right direction. After a moment, he removed his hands and Arella gasped. The city was spread out before her, a matrix of glistening lights that twinkled like billions of stars.

"It's beautiful." She said. Magnus wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Not as beautiful as you." He whispered, kissing her cheek. "You know, every time I saw the lights of the city, I always felt empty. And now I know why… It's because I was meant to be seeing them with you." Arella turned to him, one hand at his cheek, eyes shining.

"And you have me." She said. Magnus leaned in, kissing her, the glare of the lights making his vision blur as he closed his eyes.

"Forever?" he said. He could feel Arella smiling against his lips.

"Forever."


End file.
